


One More Night, That Was A Good One

by Velocity_Owl87



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Broken Promises, Divorce, Emotional Infidelity, Emotionally Repressed, Eventual Happy Ending, Gay Sex, Growing Old, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Requited Unrequited Love, Retirement, Second Chances, Slice of Life, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6322093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velocity_Owl87/pseuds/Velocity_Owl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stevie Gerrard is the long-suffering captain of the Liverpool Birds, a once glorious team in the NHL, but now barely scraping by. After another first round exit, he contemplates retiring and giving up his dream to win the Stanley Cup. But his friend Carra convinces him to give it one more shot, to which he agrees. </p><p>Nando Torres is looking for one more shot at redemption and Xabi Alonso is looking for one more escape, and both find that in their old team of the Birds and in their erstwhile Captain.</p><p>Jurgen Klopp, the new Birds coach, might be crazy for getting the old guard back, but then again, all greatness comes from one last throw. </p><p>A throw none of them will waste, even if it kills them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One more chance, one more shot, one more escape

**Author's Note:**

> It's the hockey AU that came out after reading of these guys in so many scenarios. I'm Canadian, that's the only excuse I have for making Liverpool a hockey team. 
> 
> If you don't follow hockey, no worries. I'm not going to overload it with obscure rules or traditions, since the dramas more in the dressing room than on the ice. Just rest assured that you won't have to wiki things to get through this. 
> 
> Proofed and edited, but if mistakes appear, I will fix them later. Title is from the Stars song "One more night."

_Stevie-One More Year_

He was the last one in the dressing room, but he didn't care. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go, really. It wasn't his weekend with the girls and his entire family and his mates knew better than to bother him after a first round exit for a couple of days. He'd come around, but he needed the downtime to come to terms with the end of another fruitless season and whether he really wanted to continue the grind one more year. He was starting to get long in the tooth and he wasn't stupid enough to not see the writing on the wall.

He had been good when he had first been traded to the 'birds as an eighteen year old. He had some good years with the team with Sami as the captain and Nando and Xabi and...

He forced himself to not go down there. He knew damned well that most of it was business. Nothing personal. Yet it stung to be the anchor of a rapidly fading team whose best glories were almost a quarter of a century ago. They had been something on the ice, the 'birds had. But Manchester, both United and City, Chelsea, Arsenal...Real Madrid, Barca, Bayern...They all had eclipsed the team that Stevie loved with all his heart, but was finding it hard to muster up a second round entry into the playoffs, never mind win the Cup one last time.

He was tired. Hockey had given him a lot, but it had also taken a whole lot from him and he had to really wonder if he could do it this year. One more year. Carra, the ever optimistic one of his friends was sure it could happen. That next year they had a solid chance with some signings and the possibility of a new coach.

“Besides, I've been hearing rumours about a couple of your old wingers wanting another go with the Birds.”

Carra had added as they had sat in a dingy pub in Manchester after the Birds had gotten knocked out.

Stevie had only raised an eyebrow and rubbed his face, his beard making a scratching noise as he did. It would be gone tomorrow, so he didn't give a damn that it made him look like he was homeless. Fuck it all. He was at the cynically angry stage of being drunk. He downed more of the shitty over-priced tourist crap and signaled the bartender.

“Can you get me a proper pint? The local stuff, not the shite you serve the tourists.”

The bartender gave him a dirty look, but nodded and put down a new pint in front of him. Carra laughed at that and drank down the rest of his pint. He didn't give a fuck about looking like what he was: A kid from Merseyside that had made good in the NHL until too many concussions had pushed him out into scouting.

Stevie drank a bit and raised an eyebrow at Carra.

“I'll believe it when I see it. Anyways, it doesn't matter. I'm thinking that it's enough for this year. I had a good career. Had some luck at the World's and at the Olympics. Maybe it's time to go. I'm thirty-five, Carra.”

Carra lost the amusement in his eyes as he looked at Stevie with the same speculative look he used whenever he was looking at possible prospects in the minor leagues.

“That's a pretty big step. A serious decision, mate. You sure you'd be able to go through with it? I mean, you've been playing for half of your life. You even made it back when you broke your leg and they weren't counting on you. If it hadn't been for you, Rooney wouldn't have found the back of the net and gotten the gold for us at the Olympics. I know the loss is raw tonight, but...It would be a shame to go right now, Stevie.”

Carra had ended his soliloquy while Stevie sat there, thumbing down the condensation of his pint and nodding at the points Carra was making. When put that way...It made sense to just give it one more try. One more year and then say goodbye and walk away from it all. Enjoy his retirement and focus on the pundit game. Already, the BBC and Sky sports were starting to court him, have him on once in a while to be a talking head. He had been approached to do a biweekly column for his local daily.

“Let me have the summer and then I'll tell you. Just like you gotta tell me about all those rumors you were hinting at there.”

Carra grinned and finished off his beer, signaling for another pint and clinked the glass to Stevie's when he got it.

“It's a deal. Now drink up and get the grieving out of your system. You're no fun when you're sulking.”

True to form, Stevie had drunk himself out of that stage and the rest of the night was a bit of an incomprehensible blur. He still was surprised as to how he made it back to his hotel room and how none of his teammates had ratted him out. It had taken a couple of days to get over the hangover and even now, back in Liverpool, he was still not a hundred percent. He had hidden it well though, and had managed to sober up enough to look lively at the usual year end meeting. He had drank enough coffee to be able to stomach the speech about how there was always next year from Rogers before they got released to clean out their stalls and set loose on a vacation that not many of them really wanted to be on, but still took.

He had dawdled, his conversation with Carra still weighing heavily on his mind as he sauntered vaguely down to the dressing room. He loved hockey. Loved playing against the best of the sport. Loved the road trips, even though he did miss his bed sometimes. Loved being out on the ice and the camaraderie he shared with the old standbys and the rookies. He liked being a mentor and liked the rush of setting up a perfect slapshot and the goal that would follow right after if he aimed right.

The question was: Did he love it enough to give it one last go for glory? He didn't know for sure if he did. He still had no answer to Carra's comments as he walked to his stall and sighed heavily. Maybe with the off-season time he would, he decided as he looked at his gear and dutifully set to work.

Stevie put his gear in his bag and sighed as he looked at his stall. The wood was dented and nicks scarred the surface despite the coats of paint that had been added to it. The red and white paint that would be no doubt refreshed during the off-season when they went off to play golf or be with their families or train obsessively to get that last shot at the Cup. He ran his hands through his newly cropped hair and over his clean shaven face.

First round wipe-out again. At least it had been in six games rather than a sweep and his disgust at Manchester United flared anew. They had faced them yet again in the playoffs and they still hadn't been able to get past them. Even Everton had managed it, only to get knocked out of contention by Arsenal. Fuck.

Stevie groaned and turned away from his stall, shouldering his bag with all the equipment that he was going to have to check the minute that he got home. He would have to take inventory and figure out what needed to be thrown out and replaced, what needed repairing and what needed to be simply cleaned and be ready for October. He found himself grimacing as he thought about the work that was waiting for him.

No matter. It was the same every year and it was going to be the same when he got back in October. He turned away from his stall, from the red and white nameplate that had the Liverbird, his name and his number on it as it always had and paused. He turned around and touched his name “GERRARD” and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was going to come back. One more year, come what may. One more year.

_Nando- One more shot_

Nando's knee was jiggling in nervousness as he waited for his agent to come into his office. He didn't need to be told that his stint with the Chelsea Lions was over. The season had been an abysmal one for him and he knew that he would be traded. There was no doubt in his mind he would be. The question was where? What team would have him? He had come back at the latter half of the season, but even his much improved form hadn't been able to help the Lions from being wiped out in the second round.

He hadn't gotten the vote of confidence that he needed from the coach, who was fighting his own battles he needed to know that he was going to be in the roster next season. Nando had seen it before. He was done for and as much as he hated to swallow that bitter truth, the sooner he accepted it, the easier the transition was going to be.

He kept on telling himself this until his agent popped back into the office with a folder edged in red and handed it to Nando.

“It's a bit less than what you'd make going to the KHL, but Klopp thinks that you could be a good addition to the team now that's he's into restructuring it.”

Nando's brow furrowed as he opened the folder and saw the familiar red Liverbird logo on the letter head.

“You don't have to take it, or give an answer for at least a week. But I'd counsel you to take it. You're not going to get offers from the other big players and there's a change in the air for Liverpool now that Klopp's at the helm. You always did good with Gerrard and even if it doesn't work out, it wouldn't hurt your profile once the season ends and the trade window opens up.”

Nando only half-listened as he flipped through the paperwork and saw the crisp signature of Klopp among the other signatures on the contract. Klopp had done wonders with Borussia when he had been with them and he wasn't as outright batshit as other coaches he'd had in the past. He knew the system in Liverpool and he knew the city. He also knew Steve...His cheeks heated up at the memory of his captain. Yes. He knew Stevie.

“I'll do it. I'll go. Do you have a pen?”

He knew that Ollala would be a bit put out at having to move the kids again. She had liked Chelsea and the circle of friends she had developed there. But he was confident she'd understand once he explained it to her. What opportunities it would give him come July. It would be perfect.

That was what he told himself as he took the pen his agent was offering him and signed on the dotted line.

_Xabi- One More Escape_

He didn't give a fuck about the money, when it came down to it. He only cared about the ultimatum that Nagore had given him. That had been part of the reason why he hadn't even considered another city other than Liverpool when he put in his trade request. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but it did. Just like so many things that had happened before. He hadn't foreseen them, despite his meticulous planning. Things had happened and he had to backtrack and fit them into manageable boxes.

She hadn't been quite happy when he had told her of the trade options. She had hefted the baby on her hip and her pretty mouth had turned down as she listened.

“What about Stevie, though? He's there, probably waiting for you. What will you do if it happens with him? Have you planned for that?”

Xabi's mouth had thinned into a pale bloodless line when she said that to him. Yes, he was quite aware that Stevie, good old dependable Stevie, loyal to a fault, was still there. He was the heart of the birds and still, occupied a place in his heart that he didn't dare examine closely. Nothing had been there between them, other than the insane chemistry of good line-mates. That was all they were, Xabi told himself over and over again.

“Nothing will happen. Nothing has ever happened. We just are good on the same line. Trust me. Nothing's ever gone on between him and I and nothing will. I know that's too much to ask for at the moment, considering the circumstances. But not with him.”

Nagore had only leveled a withering look at him.

“Fine. Fine. But if it doesn't, Xabi...Don't cry when it all falls apart.”

Her words had chilled him to the bone and he couldn't help but to doubt his decision. At least until the call from his agent came, telling him that it was a done deal and to come in to sign the paperwork tomorrow morning.

He was curiously numb as he ended the call and shoved his phone in his pocket.

He was finally doing it. He was going to come home to the birds.

He was getting one last escape.

 


	2. Shine A Light On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first practice under Klopp has Stevie finding some hope, Xabi figuring out promises are harder to keep than make, and Nando seeing that he probably will follow the same pattern, but with a different result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofed and edited, but if mistakes appear, they will be fixed. Title is from Banner's "Shine a Light". 
> 
> There is a bit of hockey talk here, but not too much to trip out the casual reader. We get everyone's perspectives and the stupid hockey nicknames. Hockey players are KNOWN for their inability to come up with good names. So the challenge is to translate it to the football realm. 
> 
> Real Madrid-Known as the Vikings because let's be honest, them being called "The Creams" would be utterly ridic. 
> 
> The World's mentioned here are a real competition. Spain and the UK have never played, FYI. In this verse, let's just say that hockey is as big as football and even the countries like Argentia send a team to the World's, which is usually dominated by the Northern Europeans, Canada and the US.
> 
> Klopp may or may not get a pov. Still trying to figure him out.

Stevie didn't know how feel when he walked into the dressing room and saw the two empty stalls across from him filled with new equipment and new name plates screwed on the shelf. Names that he had gotten used to seeing on the opposite side whenever he took a face-off with the Vikings of Real Madrid or the Chelsea Lions. Names that he had heard twinned with his for so long that when they stopped, it had taken ages for him to not flinch when it happened. He had been the last man standing of the old guard after Na-Torres had taken off. Xabi had bailed earlier to the Vikings. He had had major issues with their then coach and had been fresh of a World's Gold medal win. So it had made sense that he'd go looking for greener pastures.

Stevie couldn't _quite_ hate him for that. He had had an epic bromance with him. One that still was there and quite probably waiting to be rekindled into the insane line chemistry that they had had back then. But the ache had lingered and he had spent many nights with good whiskey trying to shake off the loneliness while his marriage started to crumble. Those hadn't been good years and he shied away from thinking about them indepth.

So he didn't. He had that gift of distance and he was going to use it now. Maybe the entire season if he had to. He hadn't trained as hard as he had in years that past summer, not straying from his meal plan and even giving up his pints for the sake of that last push. He was fit, his slapshot was vicious as ever and he was focusing more on speed and agility this time around. Ever since his left leg had been busted, he hadn't been as much of an offensive player, so he was focused on being a playmaker instead.

Stevie knew that Klopp would give him a fair chance if he saw the work that he put in. Stevie knew that the lion's share of the minutes would go to the kids, but he would do the best with whatever he was handed.

It was humbling to know that this was his last go at it. That he was on the other side of that cycle and next year, he would be commenting on the ice shenanigans, rather than being part of it. He frowned and shook his head. He couldn't afford to waste maudlin thoughts on the future. He needed to focus on this year. That was all that mattered right now.

He put his gear back in his stall and started to undress and get ready for practice. He was early and the ice would just have been finished once he got on it. It would be good, since home ice was always the best ice, in his opinion. Even better than the homemade rinks in the north. He smiled as he worked quickly, pulling on everything with speed borne out of long practice.

He was lacing up his skates when the first other player came in. He didn't look up, figuring that it was just one of the rookies, or someone like Stu or Lals. Besides, he had to make sure that his skates were laced up properly or else it would be a pain later. He had just moved to the second one when he heard a quiet laugh.

“Still using the red laces?”

Stevie wasn't proud of how fast his head snapped up at the sound of that slightly accented voice and that laughter. He hadn't heard it in such close proximity and with such sincere amusement since late in the 2010 season. He hated how quickly he had responded, but he knew that in the end, it was bullshit. Xabi Alonso Olano hadn't ever been purged from his skin or his thoughts. Of course he would have reacted that way. Just like how Xabi had ducked his head and been little boy embarrassed when Stevie had gone to see one of his World's games after England had been eliminated. They had had one of those rare line-mate bonds that had bled quite deeply into their off-ice lives as well. So if he was ashamed of reacting fast or saying that Xabi hadn't affected him, he would be a damned liar and that he wasn't.

It still did take him a moment or two to recover from seeing Xabi just in his underarmour and casually pulling on his pads, his skates half laced with the white and gold striped laces of Real Madrid. Stevie shrugged before he gestured to Xabi's laces.

“Better than white and gold. At least you can't see the blood on mine.” He retorted, making Xabi let out a bark of laughter at that.

“Touche, Captain. Touche. Better make sure to get some then. I think we're going to have a bloody season on our hands this year.”

Xabi replied as he pulled on his practice jersey with the familiar white Liverbird on the front. It was exactly like Stevie's own, but it made him do a double-take. He had been so used to the gold, blue and red accented crest on Xabi's chest that it was like being in a parallel universe, seeing the bird there. It also made an old, futile longing claw its way back up again from the box that he had consigned it to. It made his breath hitch and he had to sit for a bit as he got a hold of himself.

“Well, if we're aiming for the cup, it will be.” Stevie replied, the old dream of hoisting the cup above his head to a roaring crowd pushing his other desires down and out of mind for the time being. That was all that he had to focus on at the moment. The rest was just a distraction. And until he knew exactly where Xabi stood and Na-Torres, he wouldn't expend extra energy in that direction.

Xabi laughed quietly as he passed by Stevie, his helmet and stick in one hand as he moved the well worn path to the rink.

“Always keeping the eye on the prize, eh, _Steebie?_ ”

Stevie winced at his name being said that way. Xabi's own special take on his name, that softening of it laced with the hint of his Basque heritage. It always undid him and today wasn't an exception. But it wasn't the time. Not now. Not when they needed to break in rookies, figure out Klopp's coaching style and get the points to be in play-off contention.

He shook his head, grabbed his helmet and stick, doubling back when he forgot the bucket of pucks and finally got on the ice to see Xabi setting up his own shooting practice.

“How's your slapshot?”

Xabi looked up.

“Better than yours.”

Stevie let out a bark of laughter as he skated up to Xabi, stopping abruptly to give him an ice shower.

Xabi hissed like a scalded cat and backed away, giving Stevie room to shoot. Stevie returned the grin and set up his shot, slapping it with enough power to have it bounce out of the net once it went in.

There was silence for a second or two before Xabi responded, shooting it in the top right. It didn't bounce as far as Stevie's puck did, but it was a decent effort.

“I feel sorry for those poor defencemen already.”

They both spun around and Stevie swore softly. Na-Torres was at the entrance in full practice gear, with the man himself, Klopp, right beside him.

Na-Torres ( _Jesus, Stevie. Just call him Nando. It's not like you're going to be able to keep the fucking lie up. Look at how fast it went to hell with Xabi)_ Nando grinned at them as he smoothly skated up. Klopp, for once, wasn't grinning. His face, with it's ever present five o'clock scruff was drawn into a thoughtful frown as he assessed the players in front of him. It made Stevie nervous, since he had faced that man's formations and players. He was a force to be reckoned with and despite his thirty-odd years, he felt exactly the same way as he had when he had been called up to the headmaster's office.

Especially when those calculating blue-green eyes focused on him and that familiar grin came out in blinding force.

Well, fuck.

~*~*~*~*~*

Stevie wanted to die after that first practice.

“I want to die.”

He wheezed out as he pulled off his helmet and ran his hand through his utterly soaked hair. Nando simply nodded as he slumped in his stall. Xabi also looked worn and even Stu and Lals looked like they had been put through the wringer. Canner looked dazed and Flanny looked like he had just ran a marathon.

“Rodgers was easy compared to Klopp.” Stu pointed out as he stripped his soaked jersey and underarmour.

“Yeah. I know. Klopp's tough. It's the first day back. It's going to pay off.” Migs pointed out as he got out of his insanely complicated goalie gear.

Stevie nodded and shoved his helmet onto the shelf. “You're right. Still doesn't stop me from wanting to pass out and sleep for a week.”

He pointed out, finally getting around to unlacing his skates and stripping out of his disgusting workout gear. Although he was exhausted as fuck and wanting to do exactly what he had said to Migs, he felt oddly optimistic. A feeling he hadn't had in a long while. Rodgers had been a good enough coach until he wasn't and Stevie realised then that he had gotten complacent. He had gotten used to losing and packing up his gear for another early exit.

But with Klopp's insistence and steely-eyed resolve that could easily turn to infectious joy when he saw a good play or pass, Stevie found himself shaking it off. Even after one practice and the weird stumbles that finding chemistry and line combinations to work with, he could feel the difference in the wind. It also had him starting to believe that this year was most definitely the year.

It was going to happen, the cup was.

He was sure of it.

_Xabi_

He was tired after practice and was quite tempted to go home still sweaty and disgusting and sleep until he didn't feel like the dead. But his natural fastidiousness didn't allow him to do so. So he got undressed as fast as possible and headed to the showers, carefully ignoring the fact that Stevie and Nando were both scrubbing themselves clean as well. He had promised that nothing was going to happen. He was determined to keep that promise. Lord knew he had broken it so often in the past.

But he couldn't help but to sneak a peek. Stevie still looked good, despite the scars littering his body and the toll of the physical play of his youth took on his body.

He cast a look at Nando, who also had that feline grace still. It was going to be bloody hard to not want, he understood now why Nagore had been so skeptical.

But he wouldn't backtrack. Despite the ache of want crawling under his skin. He wanted. Oh God did he want. But he loved his wife and loved his family.   
And he was too damned tired of fighting. So he closed his eyes and turned on the shower, tilting his face up to meet the spray.

He wasn't going to pretend otherwise. He knew that Klopp was testing all of them, noting their strengths and weaknesses so that he could come up with the best game plan that he could. Xabi had to admit that he was slightly miffed by the German, who was the polar opposite of the flamboyant and mercurial coaches he had dealt with throughout his career. Klopp wasn't afraid to show his emotions, but there was a natural restraint that didn't let him go over the top and become unbearable. He was also quite free with his praise and those lopsided smiles as he was with criticism and pointers to fix whatever issue wasn't working out. He didn't seek to divide the team and was taking the steps to build them into a cohesive unit that believed they could go farther than they had in the past.

Xabi had figured it out halfway through the practice. Nando was still struggling with the concept of being part of a team, but Stevie...Xabi swallowed as he saw how his shoulders got a bright straighter and the speculative gleam in his eye came back. Stevie had no problems with it at all.

He was the captain that Xabi remembered from all those years ago. The captain he had seen single handedly push them through to the President's Trophy finals and had come so close to netting them a Stanley Cup. That captain that hadn't been there in years was back.

And Xabi felt his mouth go dry when he saw that. Especially since that had been the Stevie he had first stupidly fallen in love with.

God, he only hoped he was strong enough to keep that promise. He really hoped so.

_Nando_

He knew that it was going to happen. Just like it had happened the last time he had been in the Birds. Stevie, as always, was the oblivious catalyst. He thought that with the way that the Birds had been operating that it wasn't going to be the same team, the same Stevie. The Stevie he had known and left behind wasn't that self-deprecating, put upon captain of a team that had more or less given up.

That Stevie, he could easily ignore. Just like he could easily ignore the still charismatic pull of Xabi on his left wing.

He should have known better than to think that Klopp wasn't going to work his magic on Stevie as quickly as he did. The man that he had seen at the beginning of the practice was the one that he had seen in the Bird's glory years. The Captain Fantastic was back and with a vengeance.

Nando swallowed hard as he recalled that bright glint in Stevie's sherry brown eyes as he skated out of the rink and into the practice room. Although he was as dog tired as the rest of them, there was an aura of confidence that Nando, Xabi and the others couldn't help but to respond to.

He had known that if anyone was going to turn around the fortunes of the team, it was going to be Klopp. He just hadn't thought that the German was going to come in so _prepared_ as he had been. It was a style that was different from the other coaches in the league at the moment. Not like Rodger's and his slickness, not like Mourinho and his fiercely brutal divide and conquer tactics. No. Nothing like that at all.

He was glad it wasn't like that. He was sick of having to please a coach who blew hot and cold and always made sure to remind you of your shortcomings. No. Klopp knew the weaknesses of his players, but made sure to be tactful about them and clever with suggestions to fix them. He could understand now why his agent jumped at the chance to get him back on the team. He would do well here. Polish his fading star and get another good team sniffing around at the July window.

Remembering that, Nando ran his hand through his hair and turned off the water. He was going to have to focus on that if he was going to avoid the traps of the past. He wasn't the same naive kid as he had been the first time he set food in the Anfield Arena. He knew better.

Even if Stevie and Xabi were again just outside his vision.

He stepped out of the showers and grabbed a towel, scrubbing himself dry as he walked back to the dressing room that was half-empty. He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was home safe when he saw that Stevie and Xabi were standing there, fully dressed and quietly talking.

Stevie looked up then and met Nando's eyes, smiling as he did.

“Good, we thought you drowned. Klopp just announced the team dinner. You got ten to get out there.”

Nando groaned inwardly.

So much for not repeating the pattern.

 


	3. Oh Take Me Higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner makes Xabi and Nando realize a few harsh truths about themselves and how they feel about their Captain. Before anything can come out of that, the season opener happens and Klopp's revamped team takes to the ice and shows what they are capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this week has been kind of mad in that I've had very little sleep and quite a few days of socializing. Not a bad way to go, but I just now got this chapter finished. Proofed and edited, but if mistakes appear, they will be fixed. 
> 
> Title is still from Banners "Shine a Light"

_Xabi_

The nostalgia and lingering ache for so many lost years clung to Xabi as he lifted his glass of wine and took a small sip. He wanted to pretend that he wasn't seeking Stevie out, but it was all too painfully obvious that he was. Even Nando, who tended to curl up into himself and go dead quiet when he was uncomfortable and thus miss everything that he didn't want or care to see, was noticing.

“ _Ease up, or else they're going to think he fucked you over royally at some point.”_

Nando had hissed and covered it up by taking a sip of the mineral water that he had been drinking, unlike his other teammates, who had been either drinking wine or lager. The last of the off-season now that training had begun in earnest. Xabi had only raised his eyebrow at that and hastily looked away when Stevie looked in their direction.

They were lucky that there weren't any Spanish speakers in their corner, unlike when Reina and Suarez had been around. Xabi suspected that Lallana could understand a bit, but he wasn't about to test the theory just yet. Despite his awkward state of mind, he wasn't looking to get embarrassed in front of the captain he hadn't ever excised out of his heart and soul, no matter how much he appeared to.

“ _That obvious?”_

Nando made that bitchface of his before he replied.

“ _Migs is starting to look at you both. Also, if I'm noticing the eye-fucking...What do you think?”_

Nando replied tartly, making Xabi clear his throat and look down at the plate of alfredo and chicken parmesan he had ordered. It was barely touched and he wanted to kick himself for seeming like such a besotted teenage girl discovering her first boyband. God. He picked up his fork and knife and set to eating. It would do him good, rather than working his way through the wine and having a slight hangover at practice tomorrow.

“ _Makes me wonder if you lied, all those years ago about what went on between you.”_

Nando's words were like a jolt of electricity through him and he dropped his fork onto his plate, drawing the attention of Kolo and Lallana, who only raised an eyebrow at the noise. Xabi smiled and picked up the fork quickly, smoothing over the incident and waiting before the other two went back to their own discussion with Stevie, who hadn't noticed anything. He was busy drawing plays on paper napkins while Klopp only nodded and made notes of his own with a black biro.

The sight of him doing the same thing that he always did, sketching out plays with the coaches when it was supposed to be just a fun night out made Xabi smile again. Despite him knowing damn well that they all had changed, he still couldn't help but to feel a slight aching warmth as he saw that one thing that didn't change. Diligent as always, wanting to go further and push himself harder. He knew that it was yet another thing that he loved about the man.

His hand clenched around his fork and he felt his face go ice cold and then hot at the thought. So simple, so honest, and so fucking _true._

“ _You all right there, Xabs? You look a bit off there.”_ Nando muttered as he signaled the waiter for a refill and eyed Xabi apprehensively. They weren't as close as they had been and unlike their interactions with Stevie, theirs were a bit strained and awkward. They had their history, but it wasn't the same heavily charged one that they both separately shared with their teammate.

Xabi waved the concern away and focused on eating and slowed down on the wine. He had promised Nagore that nothing was going to happen this time around. Even if he was absolutely fucking in love with Steven George Gerrard, there was no way that he would ever act on it. He had promised and he wasn't about to break his word again. He loved his wife and his family and had made the sacrifice for them. He simply couldn't throw it away just like that.

Even if it killed him to do so.

Nando made a quiet noise of disagreement, but didn't ask him again. Xabi knew that he could be maddeningly tight-lipped and knew that Nando didn't have the heart to keep on pressing the situation. Not when he knew that Nando was struggling.

With what, Xabi wouldn't dare say outloud. But he could guess that it had something to do with the same thing that he was struggling with also.

_Nando_

The dinner, oddly enough, had gone smoothly. He had forgotten that Stevie usually didn't cut loose at the formal dinners. It wasn't that he didn't like to party or took his captain duties too seriously. It was just his way. Especially since he was always sitting next to the coach, his attention was usually focused on talking about the game and plays and how to make the team work better. He was a boy scout that way and Nando secretly admired that about him.

As it was, Nando was expecting it to be sort of awkward with the new kids and the old faces, but by some stroke of luck, he had ended up sitting next to Xabi at the same table as Lallana, Kolo and Can. None of the three were actually paying much attention to either of them, having had already forged their bonds and despite feeling slightly left out, Nando had to admit that it was for the best.

Especially since Xabi wouldn't stop looking like a lovesick fool whenever his eyes happened to fall in Stevie's direction. He had guessed, ages ago, that there was something between them. Even if they had or hadn't acted on it, everyone could tell that there was much more than the line chemistry between them. Even if Xabi had been the one to walk away first from it, it was still there.

Like a phantom, Nando could feel it after Xabi left, hovering between them and making things nigh on impossible to happen between him and Stevie. He wanted...Damn did he want it. But he couldn't go through with it. Not when it was painfully obvious that Stevie was still sleeping with the ghost of Xabi.

The pressure had mounted then and Chelsea offered a respite, so he took it.

And regretted it ever since.

And now that he was back, watching Xabi go through his insides and Stevie being utterly oblivious to it all.

Yet despite the uncomfortable situation, he had to admit that it was far better to be here, under Klopp's paternal eye and working to rebuild a relationship with the team he left than be back there.

He was still thinking about that when Steve finally raised his eyes from the napkin that he had been doodling plays on and met Nando's eyes.

They held each other's gazes for what seemed like an eternity and Nando felt the blood rush to his face as they did so. Nando drew in a breath sharply before he looked away first. There had been something dangerous in Steve's usually soft brown eyes when he looked into them. It had been a small spark that could have easily been his imagination, but he knew that wasn't the case when he heard Xabi swearing softly under his breath.

He made sure that he didn't look at Stevie the entire time he was there and when it was time, he made his way home alone.

It may be his last shot at being a successful player, but he had to admit that he had been naive to think that the past was going to stay in the past.

He groaned softly as he looked out the window and watched Liverpool pass by.

He'd have to make sure that he was on his guard at all times.

He couldn't afford to go down that rabbit hole.

Despite the small curl of longing that he had felt at seeing that spark in Stevie's eyes.

~*~*~*~*~

Stevie blew out a breath as he bounced on his skates and waited for the announcement to let them get on the ice for the pre-game activities. He looked at the rest of his team, the red and white of their uniforms and the looks on their faces that varied between outright fear, excitement, determination and giddiness. Xabi and Nando, as always, were focused. Lallsy was bouncing on his skates, eager to get out and show his stuff. Stu was thoughtful as was Can. If he craned his neck, he could see Migs moving quickly from skate to skate as he waited to get out into his net. It was just like it always had been and Stevie couldn't help grinning. This was his team, his boys and he couldn't help to be proud of them.

His thoughts snapped back to the game as the tempo of the muffled music sped up as well as the loudness of the announcer. It was time. He put his helmet on fast and grabbed his stick, getting ready to fist bump his teammates as they exited the grey painted tunnel to the ice outside. Once he had all of that, he heard the name of his team being announced and the accompanying roar of the crowd at Anfield.

“It's the first game, let's make it count.” He told them as they moved fast, their fists connecting as they went out and slid out onto the ice, doing the skate around for the benefit of the fans right by the rink, who were cheering and waving. Some had flags and some had homemade signs. All of this, Stevie noticed at a glance as he made loops around the ice, Lallsy and Can in front of him as they skated and Xabi to the left and Nando to the right of him. It almost felt like it had years ago, when everything was new and fresh and he could almost fool himself into thinking that was the case.

Except when Manchester United came out and it wasn't the same faces that he saw amongst their white and red jerseys with the gold and red devil in the center of their chests. It was seeing Rooney, and Blind and Schweinsteiger that it hit him: It had all changed and the stakes were high. They had to fight for points and store them up for the playoff contention. He grasped his stick tightly as he made another loop around the ice and stopped in front of Migs, who was getting ready to face the volley of shots from Manchester United.

He wasn't going to let them win. At least not easily.

The whistle sounded and they all moved to their spots to wait for the anthems to be sung. It was time.

~*~*~*~*

Stevie chewed on his mouthguard as he looked at the clock. It was early in the third and the birds had a two point lead. One was his, with a lucky bounce provided by Lucas that he had managed to pop in top shelf. How, he still had no idea. Only that he had done it.

The other one had been courtesy of Nando finding Xabi, and then Xabi feeding it to Lalls, who had nailed it right in the five whole before De Gea had been able to close his legs to block the shot with his pads.

Manchester United had been pissed. It had lit a fire under Rooney and Schweinsteger to get them to shoot, but that was no go. Even the defence was looking a bit slack and the push back that they were giving the birds was not even a fraction of the push back that they usually faced. The men of old Trafford were discouraged and tired and despite feeling a twinge of pity for them, Stevie was glad that their first game was going better than expected.

He cast a glance at Klopp, who was standing behind them, his mouth pressed in a thin line as he crossed his arms and watched the action intently. His eyes were narrowed as he focused on the ice and Stevie had to admit that having him looming over the bench was a stolid presence to a team that had gotten far too used to losing. He wasn't icily cold like Rodgers and he did show emotion whenever his boys scored, which had been twice already.

If they won, this would be a great start, all of his crazy moves and trades no longer circumspect as the hockey world thought that they were. Xabi and Nando had been risky, but so far were starting to pay off. He had been worried that wasn't going to be the case, but the gamble was working and would hopefully continue to work.

“Stevie! You're in!”

He got his mouthguard back in and went in for his shift, head snapping up fast to see where he could be the most help. He saw that Lals had the puck and had two Manchester United players after him in hot pursuit. Without thinking, he moved towards them, isolating one and providing a screen so that Lals could skate to position and pass it to Nando, who was at the perfect angle to shoot it and add another goal for the birds.

He would have, if it hadn't been for an overly eager defenceman barreling through and slamming Nando from the back, knocking him down and out.

Stevie didn't even wait for the whistle. Even if it had sounded, he wouldn't have heard it with the roar of his blood rushing to his ears as he moved towards the defenceman when Nando was still down and not really moving. He lost his stick somewhere on the way and it didn't matter, all he could see was red as he skated towards the defence and walloped him with a vicious right hook.

Rooney got into his face then and swung at him, but Stevie ducked and got him with an uppercut, Mata appeared then and Xabi was the one to knock him over. Lals appeared to shove Bastian away and got hit square in the face. Stevie saw red yet again and jumped right in.

And then all hell broke loose.

~*~*~*~*~

Klopp stood in the middle of the dressing room, his face coolly neutral as he looked at his team. Stevie met his gaze dead on, despite his eye having swelled shut. Xabi too, was looking back while thumbing at the split on his lip. Nando still looked slightly dazed, the bruise on his forehead looking lurid in the sodium lights of the room. Lallana was pressing a tissue to his swollen nose and Simon was just looking at them all with a mixture of pride and disdain all over his face.

They sat there in silence while they waited for their coach to speak.

“Although I'm not impressed with the amount of penalty minutes we racked up, or the fact that we had too many instances of three on five...You showed that the spirit of the Liverbirds is not dead. Maybe next time, we win without that many fights, ja?”

It wasn't a St. Crispin's Day speech, but it still made the locker room erupt in a cacophony all the same.

And if he gave Nando and Stevie a speculative look before he left, Stevie wasn't going to be the one to point it out or say anything about it.

Neither was Xabi, despite the thoughtful look he was throwing Stevie before starting to strip off his gear.

The season had begun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Game structure-I'm not sure how many people follow the NHL or hockey. It's three periods of 20 mins each. Penalties can range from tripping, high-sticking, icing, offside and of course, fighting. Hockey isn't as brutal as it was ages ago, but the odd fights do break out. Occasional all team brawls break out also. It's insane when the benches all clear out for those.  
> Positions-I still haven't worked out the analogues for their positions, but if pressed, Stevie is a right/left winger, Nando a centre and Xabi a left winger. Lallana is a centre too and Simon is of course the goalie.  
> Xabi-He's a bit more self-aware than Nando, but is also determined to make things work in his life. He may desperately want Stevie (and eventually Nando), but he's made a promise, so yeah...  
> Nando-He's aware that stuff is heading in a direction he recognizes, but is still reluctant to name it.  
> Stevie-He's holding back because he is focused on the game. He's going to come around eventually.


	4. Have Some Mercy On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suarez notices that there's more to Stevie's reaction and forces him to finally suck it up and let Nando and Xabi know how he feels about them. Xabi and Nando also see the writing on the wall and all of them decide that the All Star Break would be the best time for that. 
> 
> But then the league has other plans for Stevie's nomination and things get stickier after that.

The phone rang, jolting Stevie out of a deep sleep and making him start awake. The noise and then the rude awakening were enough to irritate him when he picked up the phone and answered it.

“This better be good.” He growled into the phone as he brought it with him under the duvet as he lay on his side and waited for the person on the other end to explain what the hell they were doing calling him at tits o'clock in the morning.

“You going to do a repeat of the season opener tonight? You nearly knocked Rooney's teeth out there.”

Suarez's voice came through, making Steve groan. Although they had a good relationship as line mates and friends, he really wasn't in the mood to take his friend's shit that morning.

“Yeah, well the fucker was asking for it that time. If he’s up for it again, then I’ll do my best to finish the job I started. Anyways, what the hell, Luis? Shouldn't you be getting ready for practice instead of calling me to bust my balls?”

Stevie ground out, making Luis only laugh instead.

“I missed that about you, Stevie. It's been awhile.”

Stevie's mood lightened a bit. He had been sorry to have seen Suarez go, but he understood why he had to go. Liverpool could be a cruel place when you didn't have thick enough skin to deal and besides, Suarez seemed better adjusted and happy ever since he had moved to Barca.

“Yeah, yeah. But seriously. I was sleeping. If you're going to say something, say it fast. I have practice in like two hours.”

“Fine. I'll stop with the insinuations. So you still have it bad for Nando and Xabi, don't you?”

Stevie groaned and wondered if he could smother himself with his pillow rather than talk about the subject that Simon and Luca had needled him about after the game. Even though three months had passed since then, they still kept poking that particular wound.

“Luis! Christ, not you too! I was the closest! Anyone else would have jumped in if I hadn't gotten to him first! Why does everyone think that I had some ulterior motive in doing so?”

Luiz snorted. “When it comes to Nando Torres and Xabi Alonso, you _always_ have ulterior motives. Deny it as much as you want, but I was there when they both left. I know what your face looked like when you saw them then, and I know what your face looked like before you decked Rooney. So stop embarrassing yourself and just admit it, for fuck's sake!”

Stevie sighed, rubbing his face in an effort to buy some time with his answer.

“Luis, it's too damned early for this. Too damned early for it.”

It was Luis' turn to sigh.

“So when's it going to be right time for it? It's been what, six years since you set eyes on both of them? When are you going to admit that you want them? You already wrecked a marriage, Stevie. Don't wreck this when you got a second chance to make it right.”

Despite wanting to snap back at Suarez and lie through his teeth, he couldn’t force himself to say the words. Not when it was so painfully obvious that he was carrying an Olympic sized torch for both Nando and Xabi. As much as he hated to admit it, he hadn’t been doing a great job of hiding his affections as well as he thought he had. If Suarez, who was more often than not a bit obtuse could figure out, he was fucked.

He was also done denying it and had to either suck it up and forswear the emotion or do something about it.

“I know. Alright? I know that all too well. I can’t stay like this with them. I’m going to tell them.”

Suarez made a soft noise of admiration and surprise at that. He hadn’t ever expected to get that out of Stevie and to get it so easily had made him have to rethink his strategy.

“When are you thinking of doing it? I mean…The play offs are looming and even though the Birds are in a good standing…I doubt Klopp and the rest of the team would forgive you for screwing them out of a playoff spot.”

Stevie made a face at that fact. Luis did have a point. If anything was going to happen. Or start to happen, it had to be in the narrow window of now and the All-Star Game in Leeds. He was going to have to face his own fears and actually take action rather than be the sadsack he had been all those years.

“I'll do it during the All Star Game weekend. There, Happy?”

Luis laughed. “I will be once you tell me you tapped those asses.”

Stevie let out a noise that was a cross between a laugh and a groan. “You want picture evidence too?”

“We're friends, but not that close. Just get it done. Trust me, you'll feel better for it.”

Stevie snickered and put his phone on the pillow beside him and drifted back to sleep. As weird as the unexpected conversation was, it really did much to ease his mind.

He had a plan now. He just hoped that it wouldn't blow up in his face.

~*~*~*~*  
“So exactly when are you and Stevie going to stop fucking around and actually do something about your feelings?”

Xabi's mouth dropped open in shock at Lallana's blunt as fuck question. His eyes flickered over the dressing room and he breathed a sigh of relief that everyone else was too busy getting their gear on to notice the conversation between himself and Lallana.

“There's...It's...Look, it's not any of your business what goes on between Stevie and I.”

Xabi replied calmly, not willing to show exactly how much the conversation was getting to him. He wasn't going to have this conversation. Not in the locker room where everyone could hear and certainly not where Stevie could walk in and get everything wrong.

Xabi wasn't a fool. He knew exactly why Lallana was bringing this up so close to the All-Star Game.  They had been luckily holding on a good spot throughout the first half of the season. Not first place, but close enough to not rely on a wild car slot if the playoffs started.  They were doing far better than Leeds and Newcastle and even Manchester United, which had been a massive source of hilarity to them and the sports writers. After so many years, they were starting to be seen as contenders yet again. Xabi was proud of that, and even prouder of the fact that Stevie was holding himself like the captain he had known during the 2006 playoffs where they had been so close to winning against Juventus. There was hope there, there was determination and a flame that had been dimmed, but had now erupted back in full force.

And even though Steve had hovered and come close to him and Nando, the unresolved issues were still hanging about all of them. It hadn't been so noticeable at first, but as the season moved ahead, it was starting to become obvious that Stevie's penalty minutes coincided on how many hits he or Nando got. And if Lallana was beginning to notice and confront him about it...Well...Maybe it was time that they stopped acting like high school kids and got on with it.

He would do it, Xabi reasoned. He would talk to Stevie and then Nando. But it was going to be on his terms, rather than on Lallana's or anyone else's terms. He was a fucking adult and they would talk about it like adults.

He turned away, but Lallana wasn't going to give up that easily. He grabbed Xabi's arm and yanked him back into his personal space.

“Actually, it is. He's my captain and in case you haven't noticed, this is his last chance to win a fucking Cup. So if you've got feelings for him, fucking tell him already. He doesn't need the prolonged agony any longer. He was gutted after you all left. Stevie's a good guy. We want this Cup, yeah. But for him. So either shit or get off the pot, cause if you don't, I'll gut you myself.”

It shouldn't have been such an effective threat, but Xabi couldn't help the small shiver of fear that went down his spine at the words. Not to mention also at the way that Lallana's dark brown eyes got even darker, the pupil swallowing the soft brown iris and making him look feral. Xabi didn't doubt that his teammate meant it. He had seen Lallana when he checked and attacked. It wasn't pretty.

Lallana let him go then, and moved away, leaving Can to come up to him.

“If he doesn't do it, I will. Stevie doesn't deserve this.”

Can hissed at him before walking past, bumping his shoulder into Xabi's chest and making him stumble back a few steps.

He got it. Loud and clear. He was going to have to find a way to talk to Stevie.

And fast.

And sure enough, Stevie was coming into the locker room, his phone in his hand and grinning at whatever it was that he saw there.

“What's the joke, Captain Fantastic?” Kolo asked from the corner of the room.

“Have you guys seen the All Star Roster voting? I'm leading the poll after someone put my name in.”

Xabi blinked and glanced at Simon, who shrugged as he, Lallana and Xabi walked over to see the NHL website and look at the poll results.

Stevie laughed a bit as he held out his phone.

Sure enough, he was in the lead, along with Rooney, Neymar, Messi, And Ronaldo. Xabi had already been voted in, as had Can and Lallana, so he hadn't really paid much attention to exactly who else was getting voted in. It didn't matter in the long run, since it was more or less a popularity contest and an excuse to catch up with old teammates and have a bit of fun before the grind for the playoffs began.  He knew that Stevie was sort of ambivalent to it. He liked being nominated, but when they started to pass him by, he wasn't overly bothered.  He had a young family and he was more than glad to have the time to devote to his wife and family. 

 _“_ _He would do it this time, except he doesn't have them anymore._ _”_  Xabi thought, trying to not let his thoughts show on his face as the rest of the team crowed over the way that the fans were trolling the system by putting Stevie into the running as a captain. He had a vague inkling it was a joke nomination, a fuck you to the corporate bullshit that had inexorably crept into the league. Yet, the more traction it gained, the more it became less of a joke and a fuck you, but a backhanded compliment to the most mulish captain in the league.

“Ha! Those suits are going to shit themselves once they see this! You're winning by at least a thousand votes! The closest one is Ronaldo!”

Kolo crowed out as he pointed out the discrepancy between Stevie and the other candidates.

“Guess you'd better start packing for Leeds, Captain Fantastic!” Kolo crowed, while the others in the room cheered and added their own advice while Stevie shoved his phone in his pocket.

“It's not set yet! Don't have me in Leeds already!” Stevie protested, his face pink as he shuffled away to his stall and started to strip for practice.

“Nah, this one is a sure one! You're going to be in Leeds! Steve Gerrard, Gerrard, He's Big, He's Strong, He's Hard! _Steve Gerrard_!”

Xabi laughed when Steve shook his head and pulled on his underarmour, not addressing the chanting that was getting a bit more lewd as time went on.

“Did Captain Fantastic score a goal already?”

Kloppo's voice cut through the chanting, leaving the dressing room silent as their coach entered, his crooked smile in place as he caught the last bit of the chanting. Nando stood behind him, clearly baffled as to what the hell was going on so damned early in the day.

“Nah, even better, he's going to be the captain of the Northern Division during the All Star Game!”

Moreno crowed out, making a cheer go through the dressing room at that. Kloppo's grin got wider at that as he then walked towards Steve, who was half dressed and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Well done! Well done! Think of it as practice for the play-offs. And speaking of practice, I expect all of you out there in twenty or else you're all doing suicides. Got it?”

Everyone groaned, but got busy getting ready to get onto the ice. It still didn't stop them from ribbing Steve the whole time.

“Do you think it's going to happen?”

Nando whispered, his dark eyes glittering as they moved to the rink.

Xabi looked down at Steve, who was taking shots and Simon and laughing with Sturridge.

“If anyone can make it happen, it would be him.”

Nando chewed on his mouthguard as he followed Xabi's gaze.

“You going to tell him then?”

Xabi's gripped his stick tighter as he thought about Nando's question.

“If he's there, yeah.”

Nando nodded. “Good. Then maybe we can talk after.”

He skated off, leaving Xabi wondering when things had shifted and why he hadn't noticed.

~*~*~*~*

“What are you checking out?” Ollala asked Nando, leaning on his shoulder and looking at the screen.

“Hmm? Oh. Just checking out the All Star nominations. Steve's captaincy might not happen.”

Ollala frowned. “Why not? Didn't he get like a thousand more votes than Ronaldo?”

Nando nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, but the commissioner doesn't want to honour the agreement. They want Messi in because they decided that Stevie's nomination wasn't legitimate.”

He shook his head and made a noise of disgust. Ollala made a sympathetic noise before kissing his shoulder.

“They can't do that, can they? I mean, they set up the system themselves! That's bullshit!”

Ollala asked, clearly affronted on Steve's behalf. Her vehemence making Nando both happy that she cared, and awful that she was so supportive of a man that he was increasingly aware was going to be her rival. 

He hadn't wanted to admit that he was starting to stoke the flames of the feelings long ago burned out. Or so he had firmly believed them to be. He had resisted it for as long as he had possibly could, but knew it had been a fucking waste of the time the moment Stevie had punched out Rooney their opening game. He had lied to himself after that game. Had told himself that Stevie would have done it for anyone else on the team. He had seen Stevie throw down over Sturridge and Lallana and Can before. Even for Suarez when the fucker didn't deserve it.

He thought that was it. But when Neymar had decided to pull the same fucking trick in early November, Stevie hadn't even hesitated to smack Neymar into the boards and glare him down when it looked like he was going to stand up for a fight. No one else had really paid attention except Suarez, who had given him a knowing look when he had skated past him.  That look was enough to make him realize that yeah, Stevie did have everyone's back as a captain, but he enforced it brutally when it came to him and to a lesser extent, Xabi, since Xabi could get brutal if provoked.

Stevie was shadowing him like he did back in the day and the comfort he gained from having Stevie at his back had made his feelings go from smouldering ashes to a bright light again. It was inevitable, despite all those years and lies. He belonged to Stevie as much as Stevie belonged to Xabi. He hadn't been lying when he had told Xabi that they needed to talk after Xabi sealed the deal with Stevie. They both were intertwined with their captain and the years long denial had to stop and if Xabi wasn't going to do it, then he would. He had to.

“Yeah, it is and even though it looks worrying now, no one is going to just stand idly and shrug their shoulders. The fans are already striking back and Iker, Sergio, Ronaldo, and even Messi are all pissed off about the situation. They can't ignore the backlash when their top players are not keeping quiet about it.”

Nando explained, putting his cup down and leaning back to look at his wife.

Ollala smirked at that before kissing Nando's forehead. “Good. You guys have to show those bastard not to fuck around with a guy that's practically given his entire life to that fucking league. Even if it has given  you a career and us a comfortable life...I'm not going to lie and say I'm cool with whatever that asshole thinks is going to make money over the expense of the players that make it money.”

Nando only stared at his wife in renewed awe and affection. He had gotten extremely lucky finding a wife as wonderful and as brilliant as her.  He loved her so much!

But he knew that as much as he loved her, she wasn't the love of his life.

Stevie was.

And he knew that when the time came, he'd not only be breaking her heart.

He'd also be breaking his as well.

~*~*~*~*~

Stevie put his salt-stained cap on and made sure he was somewhat decent before the presser after the game where they had just routed the Spurs and clinched the second spot in the Northern Division. He didn’t think that he needed more controversy since the All Star Nomination was such a hot button issue that he really hadn’t much of a say in. Considering that everyone was weighing in on his behalf, leaving him bewildered and keeping quiet about the situation.

If he was honest, he was flattered that the fans had decided to shove his name into consideration and stuff the ballot. Yes, he knew that it was a fuck you to the league, but he had enough of a sense of humour to just roll with it. He would have liked to be there without any controversy, to have that last one taste of just playing for the sheer pleasure of _playing_ rather than for the ever present worry of bringing home the hardware. But the way it was going, he was caught in the middle of a tug of war that he had no real say in. Other than to wait to be told if he was going to Leeds or staying at home nursing a beer and not dwelling on the fact that Both Xabi and Nando would be there living it up without him.

Nando had been a dark horse surprise after Neymar had dropped out from a nasty stomach flu that had been hitting the ranks hard. He had taken the nomination with polite grace, but it hadn’t stopped him from giving the league a few jabs about Stevie’s limbo status. He had been touched that Nando and Xabi had taken the time to talk about it and make as much noise as the other big names in the league. The All Star Break was literally days away and Stevie still had no clue as to where the hell he was going to be going. Unless things changed in the next two days, he was going to assume he was going to stay in Liverpool and ring up Alex to see about taking the girls out somewhere. He hadn’t seen his girls in a while and he wouldn’t mind spending the time taking them to do something special.

His decision made, he waited until the scrum was organized well enough to field whatever questions they thought up. He hoped inwardly that it would just be about the game and nothing more. He had no juicy soundbites to give, which was something that he knew damned well that they were gagging to get from him.

“Steve! Do you think that the team has benefitted from having Klopp as your coach?”

He had to resist rolling his eyes at the inane question, but it also put him at ease enough to keep on answering anything that they threw at him. As long as it wasn’t anything to do with the All Star Weekend, he was going to be fine.

And then it came.

“So how do you feel about the controversy generated by your nomination to be the Northern Division Captain?”

Steve thought he must have gaped at the reporter for longer than a few seconds, but in the end, it didn’t matter how long he looked at the man. He opened his mouth to give the usual spiel of not knowing anything and that either way he was going to live with whatever decision would be made when Lallana somehow ended up there. Quickly grabbing the mike, he shoved it into Stevie’s face and winked before launching into a near-identical impersonation of the reporter that had just asked the question.

“Yes, Stevie, do tell us how you haven’t focused on that peripheral crap because you’re too busy leading us to a play-off spot to win the Cup with year.”

The crowd dissolved into snickering and Stevie knew that despite the trouble that they would be in later, he appreciated the gesture for what it was worth. All his team was aware that he was being used as a pawn and they hated the extra bullshit that he was forced to deal with not just on the ice, but off ice. They had devised a way to ease the pressure and hi-jacking the media scrum was part of it. Klopp was aware of the practice and had made noises about discipline, but he also had shut down the media in its tracks whenever they tried to fuck with his team. He was overly protective of his players, especially his captain and had outright called a reporter out for shit-disturbing. So Stevie hadn’t had to deal with as much of the bullshit, but some still slipped through.

“Well, Mr. Lallana, I can tell you that Klopp has done a great job in making us a cohesive unit and bringing in two of our old guard also helped to get us that extra edge. I really feel that we can go far this year with what Alonso and Torres bring us.”

It was ridiculous, but a real answer and the rest of the journos took the hint.

No All Star questions were asked again.

~*~*~*~*~

Steve was dozing when his phone started chirping non-stop. He was half tempted to chuck it against the wall to shut it up, but instead switched it to silent mode and snuggled deeper into the covers. He had been of the edge of going back to sleep when someone started pounding on his door and scared the shit out of him. Half asleep, he fell gracelessly out of bed and stomped to his front door.

As far as he knew, he was having a long weekend off where he would sleep and then go visit his girls. And despite it being a rough divorce, Alex hadn’t stored up enough rage to bang on his door like that. So it only left his brother or one of his ridiculous teammates to be making that racket. A racket that he was sure his neighbours would be quite pleased to complain about the next time that the community meeting came about.

Scowling at the thought, he yanked the door open, ready to annihilate whoever it was on the other side of the door only to find himself blinking in shock at Xabi, who was dressed in a nice suit and his carry-on bag on his shoulder. Stevie’s anger dissipated at the sight of Xabi on his front stoop, eyeing him up and down in puzzlement that turned into anger once it clicked in his mind.

“Unfuckingbelievable! They didn’t tell you! What the fuck!”

“Uh…What?”

“You got the captaincy and we’re leaving for Leeds in half an hour. Think you can look human by then?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a crazy weird time and I have just now found time to write. I haven't abandoned this. Honest. I just got stuck and then my feelings came into play. But things are better now.
> 
> Anyways, notes: 
> 
> All Star Weekend-Basically it's an excuse for a bit of a party of the top players. They get to play with the top players and do goofy stunts. To be honest, the KHL has the better All Star Weekend stunts.
> 
> Most of the time, players get picked and people vote for them to be captains and stuff. There are times when the fans try to fuck with the system in protest, like in 2007 with Rory Fitzpatrick and 2016 John Scott, which really pissed people off when the NHL blatantly tried to shut him out like they did with Fitzpatrick. 
> 
> Also, not saying that Stevie is a middling player. I just mirrored Scott's situation a bit to create a bit of drama. John Scott was a journeyman and only scored five goals. So it's just the circumstances that I wanted to borrow, since Stevie has more or less gone off of people's radars at this time. 
> 
> Proofed and edited, but if mistakes appear, they will be fixed.


	5. Say You'll Never Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The All Star Weekend has begun and Stevie is slightly out of his depth, despite Xabi and Lallana running interference, which leads to Stevie taking some Dutch courage and having a "In Vino Veritas" moment. Which Xabi doesn't mind in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay in this story. I'm not abandoning this story, I just had loads on my plate. I went to Ireland and have had some work/personal upheavals. It will continue, but at a slower pace. Thank you all for reading and your patience. 
> 
> Title is from the Chainsmoker's "Rozes" Proofed and edited, but if there are issues they will be fixed up.

Xabi was shaking his head as they settled into the train seats, his rueful grin still in place as he looked at Stevie and then looked out the window. Stevie, for his part, was strangely embarrassed at not having had answered his phone in time to see the last minute decision about his nomination to the All Star Northern Roster. They had voted him in as captain and even though the league was chewing on their livers in regards to this development, they had no choice but to abide by it. The news had blown up all over and Stevie was trending on all social media platforms.

And he felt like he wanted to go dig a hole somewhere and wait the furore out.

He had said as much to Xabi as his teammate had somehow managed to produce a fantastic suit out of Stevie's closet that he had honestly no idea he owned and made him look damned grand. Stevie had mostly stuck to the casual side of the dress code ever since his split with Alex, and seeing himself looking all polished and about five years younger had made him realize that he was still quite fit despite everything that had happened. It was a nice surprise to get, if he was honest.

It was also something that had surprised Xabi, if the subtle start and widening of those inscrutable hazel eyes was anything to go by. He felt his cheeks getting warm when he saw that and immediately felt like an awkward teenager once it registered. He was grown man, for the love of God! So why the hell was he acting like he was at his first secondary school dance? Xabi, for his part, was simply taking in the view, nodding to himself before he handed Stevie his carry on, their hands briefly touching at the exchange and making both of them pause.

Xabi's eyes stopped on his face, the colour changing slightly as he found something in Stevie's face that he hadn't noticed before. The lines of his face softened and Stevie found himself holding his breath in as he wondered what it was that Xabi had seen and if he wasn't going to do something about it. Xabi leaned in and Stevie's pulse raced, his heart thumping in his ears as Xabi reached out and pushed a bit of unruly hair away from Stevie's forehead.

The moment was broken when Xabi's phone rang and Stevie swallowed and moved away from Xabi as his teammate answered his cell, his tone clearly annoyed as he replied to the person on the other side. Stevie didn't listen in on the conversation and instead checked his own phone, clearing all of the messages and giving short replies to others as he listened to the quiet rumble of Xabi's voice in the background. His heart was still pounding and he quietly took deep breaths to calm himself and to push away the vague disappointment that swiftly followed at Xabi not following through.

“Ready to go?”

Stevie's head snapped up at the answer and he locked his phone and shoved it in his suit pocket.

“Ye-yeah. I'm ready. Who was that?”

Xabi smirked. “Lallana. Just asking if we were ready. He's coming to pick us up.”

Stevie nodded, feeling calmer than he had a couple of minutes past.

“What's his ETA?”

A car honk was his answer and Xabi snickered.

“Come on, Cinderella. It's time to get you to the ball.”

Stevie's face made Xabi laugh loudly as they exited his place and even though it was at his expense, it still made the warmth in his heart flare up and keep him in a pleasantly dazed state that lasted until they were sitting in the train compartment that they were sharing.

“I still can't believe that you didn't bother to check your phone despite everything that was going on! Seriously!”

Stevie flushed and punched Xabi in the arm, making him squawk out a protest.

“Oi! It's not like it was a sure thing! Can you blame me for wanting a bit of a lie in?”

Stevie protested, making Xabi groan with laughter yet again as he rubbed the sore spot that Stevie's punch had left. He was going to feel it later, that was for sure. For all the jokes about him being an old man, Stevie still could pack a punch when he put his mind to it.

“Yeah, cause you know old men need their rest more than the rest of us. Ready for the weekend?”

Lallana chirped up, making Can and Nando snort with laughter as they fell into the other seats across the way from Stevie and Xabi.

“To put you in your place, damned right, you cheeky little bugger!”

Stevie growled, reaching over to cuff Lallana across the head and making him laugh as he ducked the hit. Lallan's face was flushed as he nudged Can, making both of them share a smirk that Xabi didn't feel so great about. He caught Can's eye and the younger player stared back at him, the challenge clear in his eyes as he did. Despite Xabi itching to put him into his place, he simply turned away, since he knew that Can was partly right in doing so and partly because he knew Stevie would probably punch him again if he did anything to the younger man.

“I'll put him in place, don't worry.” Nando muttered in his ear, making Xabi nearly jump out of his skin when he realized that Nando had moved away from Lallan and Can's affectionate teasing of Stevie and was now standing right next to him.

Xabi threw him a side-long look before nodding. “At the game, yeah?”

Nando snickered. “You know it.”

~*~*~*~*~

“So glad that is over and done with.” Stevie groaned once they were in the relative quiet and peace of the pub, enjoying their first lager of the night. 

Well for Xabi it was the first. He had been held up on the carpet with Nando, since the journos were keen on badgering them about their return and what they thought about the Bird’s chances in the Stanley Cup race. Xabi suspected that they were focusing on him and Nando because they couldn’t really get to Stevie, whom by mutual team agreement, had been herded off of the red carpet as quickly as it was possible to do so. 

The red carpet, despite Stevie’s being a little rushed and the time being a tad truncated, was more or less a success. Mainly because Xabi and Lallana stuck to him like glue and more or less herded him through the entire scenario, deflecting any questions that would have been inappropriate or rude. Ever since that press conference, Lallana had been fiercely overprotective of his captain ever since the whole voting fiasco and what he felt was Xabi’s dithering that could harm Stevie. Although they had called a truce over the media scrum, Xabi knew that Lallana’s warnings and threats were not idle and he would make good on them if he even dared to make Stevie frown. 

Keeping that in mind, Xabi focused on gathering a bit of dutch courage and grabbing the lager once it was presented to him. He was holding it loosely when Stevie bumped into him and made his relief-laden statement. He was looking a bit rough around the edges and Xabi was sure that wasn’t the first that Stevie had had recently and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

Everyone would probably be blitzed for most of the weekend. It was one of the unspoken and tacitly understood situations that would happen at a free for all weekend. The only rule was to show up in workable form for the big hockey game and for the skills competition, which was just like sports days back in school. It was all for fun on and off the ice and if hookups happened, a blind eye was turned to those activities as well.  

Xabi smiled, knocking his glass into Stevie’s nearly empty one. 

“It was only because of the league being idiots. I’m sure they’re going to go easy on you later.”

Xabi replied, taking a long pull of his drink while Stevie grinned ruefully at the comment. 

“Yeah, it’s just...I didn’t look for it, you know? I was fine either way.”

Xabi smiled gently. He knew that was true. Stevie only did as much press as he had to and never really was looking for the spotlight. He just wanted to play and do his job and that was that. To be badgered constantly wasn’t his style at all and even with interference, it was still tough. Xabi understood that it came with the territory, but it was nice to see that hadn’t changed with Stevie at all. He figured that it was a dangerous thing when a player got too comfortable in the glare of the spotlight. That was when the passion for the game would start to wane and eventually, the skill set needed to be successful. 

“Steve, lad, we all know. I’ve never once seen you get comfortable in an interview. It’s not about the cameras for you. It’s just that you didn’t balk when they wanted to force you out. You thanked the voters by coming out here. Even though it started out a bit as a laugh, you made it more by not playing by their rules. That kind of strength...It makes people look at you and respect you.”

Stevie only stared at him after that long speech. In fact, he did it for so long that Xabi wondered if the alcohol was hitting him harder than he had expected. At least until Stevie wiped his face and put his glass down before ruefully shaking his head and laughing. 

“This is part of the reason, mate, why I couldn’t get over ye. Why I kept on hoping, and dreaming about it, even though I knew it was just empty dreams.”

The air between them had shifted, the weight of the years and unspoken desires finally falling onto their shoulders. Xabi swallowed convulsively before he drank the rest of his beer and clumsily put down the glass and looked, really looked at Stevie.

It was the same honest face with the furrowed brow and sherry brown eyes. The same flyaway hair and same thin-lipped, but mobile mouth. A mouth that he would imagine kissing when he was too drunk to push those feelings down to forget about them. 

He wanted Stevie. 

It was as clear as day, that longing and desire for him. He wanted and he knew as he got closer, as he cupped Stevie’s stubble roughened cheek, that Nagore had been right.

“I’m sorry that you thought that. It wasn’t my intention to make you wait so long for this.”

Xabi whispered before he tilted Stevie’s head up and kissed him. 

It wasn’t the same as kissing Nagore or anything that he had conjured up in those years of denial and furtive sessions on the road. Stevie’s lips were a bit clumsy and dry, but soft as they moved against his. They parted for Xabi to explore the inside of his mouth, the taste of lager not quite hiding the natural taste of him. A taste that he knew he would have to get more of before the end of the night.

At that thought, Xabi kissed Stevie a bit harder that time, making him moan and move closer, putting his body almost flush with Xabi’s. Xabi felt the hot bursts of desire shoot down his groin at that action and knew that there was no more time to waste. 

He pulled away slightly, only enough to mumble that they should head upstairs to finally finish what had simmered between them for so long. 

Stevie nodded, mumbling a quiet “Uh-huh” before they carefully made their way out of the dark pub and up to their rooms, which were luckily close to the stairwell that they had opted for rather than the elevators. Despite them having the secrecy of everyone in the pub, Xabi didn’t want to take any chances and expose Stevie and create unsought or unwanted attention for him. He didn’t give a damn about his reputation. He could always brush it off with a well-placed smile and an offer to pose for a spread. But he couldn’t do that to Stevie. Not when this was his last year and last chance at the Cup. No.

So he shielded them even in the stairwell and even after they had gotten to his door and they had gracelessly stumbled inside. They kissed again, no softness this time, but a pressing urgency that followed as they kicked their shoes off and shed their clothes in messy piles before landing on the bed. 

Stevie lay underneath him, by some trick of fate and he was staring up at Xabi with wide eyes. 

“Do you trust me, Stevie?”

“Always.”


	6. I'm Wide Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iker notices that there is a change in Alonso and Gerrard's will they/won't they relationship that somehow Torres is on the periphery of. 
> 
> Xabi and Stevie take the last step and Nando finds out exactly how much things have changed between all of them.

Iker had just gotten his drink and checked his watch when Sese told him he’d be right back, leaving him to just chill in the pub and take in the sights. He made sure to keep an eye on his teammates to make sure that they weren’t getting into too much trouble. Yes, the All Star weekend was a weekend to unwind, but he still didn’t want for anything to get out of hand. His teammates were good people, but they seriously had the impulse control of teenage boys. So as their captain, he had always made sure to corral them in case things got out of hand.

So far, it looked like it was going to be rowdy, but not too much and Iker relaxed a bit and took a long swallow of his pint. He let his eyes wander around and nearly did a double take when he saw Xabi Alonso and Steven Gerrard talking quietly, both of them quite close for just a simple conversation. He watched them for a bit while idly wondering what conversation would require such closeness and intensity when Xabi kissed Stevie.

Feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, he watched as they kissed like lovers finally reuniting. He felt like a voyeur and a creep and was trying to look away from them and give them their privacy. But they moved pretty fast and one moment they were kissing and the next they were gone as if they hadn’t been there. Only their empty pint glasses were the proof that they had even been there at all. 

He took a long swallow of his drink, clearly shocked at what he had just seen when Nando Torres made his appearance, rushing in like a hurricane like most of the players did who had to endure the relentless grind of the sports journos. A few greeted Nando and he exchanged pleasantries with them, but Iker was the first to notice Torres’ anxiousness as he scouted the pub, his eyes scanning the crowd impatiently as he searched out his target.  _ Or targets. _ Iker’s mind supplied tersely, putting two and two together. 

It was no secret that there was major tension between Alonso, Torres, and Gerrard. It had been painfully obvious the minute that they had become linemates that there was more than just on ice chemistry there. Even more than Messi and Neymar, or Reus and Gotze. No. There was more there than just that. 

It was obvious that Nando and Alonso leaving had done something to Gerrard. Just like it had done something for the better to the much put upon captain when they had come back. THe birds were players again on the leagues and Iker was willing to bet that they’d go far this year. Just like he was willing to bet that Nando’s agitation had roots in the way that Gerrard and Alonso had managed to disappear like smoke and how Lallana and Can had covered for them right after. 

He watched Torres for a few more minutes, debating if he should put him out of his misery when Sese showed up and went straight up to Torres. 

It was Iker’s turn to frown at that. Despite he and Sese having an understanding, he was all too aware of the fascination that Sese had for the forward. It had been a long ago fling for Torres, but for Sese, it had been more. Much more. 

It wasn’t Torres’ fault, Iker knew that. Sese loved with the intensity of a supernova. He loved fast and loved hard and was always surprised when others didn’t feel the same way. He always got his heart broken, but when Torres had left to Liverpool, it had changed something in Sese. His light was dimmed slightly and he didn’t love as easily anymore. He had learned to be wary and it had killed Iker to see that happen. 

Even though he knew it would eventually happen, it still didn’t stop the pain of seeing it happen and not being able to do anything about it. Well, he was eventually able to ease that pain. He didn’t know how it had changed between them, only that one day, Sese was all he could see and Sese’s smile got wider whenever they saw each other at morning practice. He couldn’t pinpoint it happening. Only in that it had and it had culminated when they had won the Stanley Cup. 

But he was only human, despite his moniker and he knew that there would always be a part of Sese that would always care for Torres. He knew this and despite wanting to go up to Sese and pull him away, he stayed in his seat and waited. 

He sipped his drink and watched as Torres smiled a tight smile at Sese before stooping slightly to speak in Sese’s ear. The smile faltered a bit when Sese turned to wave someone else over. That someone else was Lallana and whatever it was that he said to Torres made the smile disappear completely. He gave curt thanks to both Sese and Lallana before disappearing through the same door that Gerrard and Alonso had disappeared from earlier. 

Lallana shook his head and patted Sese’s shoulder before leaving. Lallana was probably too young to know what had gone down between him and Torres, so he didn’t understand why Sese had been concerned with Torres. Nor did he know enough to stick around and make some kind of small talk after both of them being brushed off so unceremoniously by Torres. 

Iker sighed and downed the rest of his drink before making his way over to Sese. 

“I’ve got some stuff upstairs. If you want, I could get Marcelo and a few others up there too.”

Iker whispered in Sese’s ear as he wrapped his arms loosely around his defenceman. 

Sese looked at him and smiled a watery smile that only just reached his soft brown eyes. 

“I’m good with it just being us, actually.”

Iker nodded and chanced brushing a soft kiss on Sese’s temple and for once, didn’t make a show of getting some of the flyaway strands in his mouth. 

“Let’s go then.”

Sese nodded and they pulled away from each other to get to their hotel room. Although it was a weekend dedicated to debauchery, Iker was always careful to not flaunt the rules. He was a private man and was private with his life and his loves. They could analyse his career on the ice. But he would be damned if he let them see anymore than that. 

They walked in silence that lasted until they were inside the room and Iker had finished putting the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and then locked it. He was going to the mini fridge where he had stored the bottles he had bought in case when Sese stopped him.

Iker was surprised when Sese drew him into an embrace and murmured a quiet “Thank you.” in his ear before he kissed him. A form, warm kiss that promised more if Iker wanted it. 

Iker returned it, promising the same as he moved them to the bed, the alcohol utterly forgotten.

~*~*~*~*~

His pulse fluttered in his throat as he looked up at Xabi, his face hidden in the shadows of the room. It was dark, but he could still make out the pale gleam of Xabi’s skin and the glitter of his eyes. Although they were suggestions, Stevie could feel the weight of Xabi’s gaze on him and he felt curiously vulnerable. Even though he was an adult and an adept hand at this, it felt like he was losing his virginity over again. 

He wanted this, though. Had dreamed about it, thought about, and yes, even wanked off to the idea of it that he wasn’t going to back away now. He couldn’t. Not when they were so close. He spread his legs and reached up to Xabi, who was kneeling between his legs while fumbling in his nightstand for something. He made a soft exclamation of success as he dropped a crinkled packet and a heavier object on the bed. 

Xabi didn’t explain their significance as he lowered himself down on top of Stevie, his body warm and broad as they lay flush against each other. He shifted a bit so that his entire weight wasn’t pressing down on Stevie and kissed him. This time, it was a softer kiss, his mouth tender as he tasted more of Stevie. Stevie groaned, feeling as if he had been in a desert and was now finally quenching his thirst. Xabi tasted of lager and clear water and it aroused him deeply. Especially now that Xabi was moving against him, rubbing their cocks together to create a friction that he hadn’t ever had the privilege of getting before. 

He hadn’t ever tried this with a man. He simply couldn’t. They weren’t Xabi. Or Nando and he wasn’t going to make anyone an unwilling substitute for who he really wanted. Even if it meant being alone. He wouldn’t do that again. He had hurt Alex badly by trying to do that before. He had learned from his mistakes. 

He moaned as the friction became almost unbearable, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Xabi’s lips had moved from his and trailed down his jaw to his neck. It was at the juncture of his neck and shoulder that Xabi nipped him, making Stevie hiss and jerk up in pleasure intermingled with pain. 

Xabi laughed softly as he slowed down the movement of his hips, leaving Stevie blinking and mewling at the loss of the friction. Xabi only hummed as he sat back on his heels and reached over for the items he had discarded earlier on the bed. Stevie, through the haze of lust, recognized the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, followed by the sound of a cap being flicked. 

Xabi fell silent, his breathing getting a little ragged as his fingers touched Stevie’s entrance gently, almost reverently. Stevie was surprised, but didn’t recoil away from the touch. Not when it was so feather light and careful. He wondered how it would feel when he was distracted by Xabi’s other hand wrapping itself around his cock. It was slippery with lube and the Xabi knew just what to do to make Stevie into a writhing mess, putting pressure in the right spots and making him focus on the sensations and not in the slight discomfort at having been entered.

He gasped when he felt Xabi’s long fingers scissor him open in one movement and then brush against the hard bundle of nerves that made him see stars and shout hoarsely at the pleasure that coursed through his body. Xabi’s hands moved faster, slower, in complicated movements that turned him into nothing more than a writhing mess on the bed. It was when he closed his eyes and saw specs of light behind his eyelids that his legs were pushed towards his chest and Xabi entered him. 

Xabi did it slowly and carefully, pushing through the ring of muscle and making Stevie moan and throw his head back as he clutched at the sheets in order to keep himself grounded. Xabi kissed his temple as he kept on going, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried to the root. He lowered his head until his forehead was touching Stevie’s.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Never better.”

Was the breathy reply and it was all Xabi needed before he started moving, his hips undulating with each thrust. The movements making Stevie whine deep in his throat and arch his back so that Xabi could reach deeper. Xabi started moving faster, encouraged by the filthy noises that Stevie was making as he again got closer and closer to the edge. When Stevie’s voice got hoarser and louder, Xabi grabbed Stevie’s cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts until Stevie’s hips jerked off of the bed and he was shooting cum all over his chest.

Seeing him like that, debauched and sweat-slicked, was enough to push Xabi over the brink. It only took him a few thrusts and he came in a rush of blinding white heat, his bones turning to water, letting him collapse on top of Stevie. 

They lay like that until Xabi got his breath back and his bones felt like they were solid and would allow movement. He waited a few moments until Stevie gave him a light shove.

“You’re not as light as you look. Gerroff!”

Xabi snickered at that and kissed his temple before he pulled out as gently as he could. 

“I’ll get a washcloth.” 

He announced as he stumbled to the bathroom, his legs still not working properly until he was finally on his way back to the bed with two wet washcloths. He used one on himself and cleaned up Stevie with the other despite Stevie’s insistence that he could do it himself. 

“I know you can. But I  _ want _ to do it.”

Stevie couldn’t continue to be churlish after that, so he let Xabi wipe all traces of their interlude clean and get rid of the washcloths as well. 

Xabi was on his way back to the bed when they both were startled by someone pounding on the door. Xabi swore and grabbed his trousers, pulling them on while Stevie did the same. Xabi was faster though and had reached the door before Stevie, who had just buttoned up his trousers in time for Xabi to open the door and freeze when he saw that it was Nando standing there, staring at both of them in open mouthed shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iker and Sese-All of the big teams play in the same league, so they all know each other due to trades and the World's. Iker has an idea of what is going on, but since he is low-key, he's not really into getting into drama. Sese's history with Nando may/may not be explored later, but suffice to say that Iker isn't going to go out of his way to help Nando.   
> Xabi and Stevie-I somehow always do the opposite of the usual pairings, with Xabi being the top. No idea why.   
> Nando-I swear that he will get to talk to them and not be the third wheel. They will have equal partnership once things get settled.  
> All Star Game-There is a ridiculous competition the day before the All Star game which includes trick shots, races, slap shot competitions and baton like races. The KHL also has a similar set up and they are hilarious to watch. Maybe even more than the NHL. Youtube them, you won't be disappointed.
> 
> Proofed, but mistakes show up, they will be fixed.


	7. Slow It Down, It's Getting Away From Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Nando comes across Xabi and Stevie, they finally push past awkwardness and inhibitions to finally get together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering I left the other chapter on a cliffhanger, I thought it was only fair to continue what was going on between them. There will be one more chapter dealing with the All-Star Weekend and then the season will get underway. 
> 
> Song title is from "Wide Open" by the Chemical Brothers. If there are any errors, they will be fixed.

Xabi was the one that snapped out of the shock and broke the tableau by grabbing a still shell-shocked Nando and pulled him inside, checking to make sure that the hallway was empty and closed the door, locking it behind him. Nando only blinked as he made his unsteady way towards the chair in the sitting area that all of the rooms had and covered his face with his hands. He let out a heavy breath as he looked at Xabi, and then at Stevie, who was still standing there with his belt still undone and looking at Nando in mute shock. 

Xabi cleared his throat then, making Nando and Stevie’s direction focus on him. 

“I think we need a drink before we talk about this.” Xabi broke the silence in a calm and neutral tone. 

“Yeah...I sure need one. Christ.” Nando muttered, his voice distorted by his hands still steepled in front of his face. He uncovered his face and ran his hands through his long, blond hair and fixed his gaze upon Stevie, who coughed uncomfortably as he took a seat on the rumpled bed.

“Stevie?”

Stevie’s head jerked up at his name, his eyes wide and his face slightly pale, the shock at the situation still upon him. 

“Coke and vodka sound good?” 

Stevie nodded and Xabi handed him a glass of what looked like watery coke. He moved over to hand Nando the other one and finally sat down beside Stevie on the bed. Not too close to Stevie, since he knew that Nando would take it as him staking his claim on Stevie. He also knew that Nando wouldn't take it well and focus on that rather than working this issue out once and for all. The last thing he wanted was to make Nando feel like he had lost Stevie and create an even worse situation between them. He also didn’t want to put Stevie in the position of a prize to be won and that he had gotten there first. 

They all took long swallows of their drinks and winced slightly when the vodka hit them. Even though the Coke softened the taste, it was still harsh enough for them to react to it. Once they all had sufficient time to process what was happening and how it could go, Nando spoke. 

“When?”

Stevie and Xabi relaxed at the question, both having expected accusations and cold anger at the situation. Stevie dared to chance a look at Nando and was relieved to see none of this in his eyes or his neutral expression. This showed them that things between all of them were salvageable and possibly a start to what all three of them had been circling around for years. 

“Just now. After the red carpet interviews.” 

Stevie replied in a slightly rough voice. 

“Xabi was there and...It just went from there.”

Nando nodded, his gaze filtered inwards as he mulled over the situation. 

“It wasn’t meant to slight you. I know it doesn’t seem like it-”

Nando shook his head and held up a hand to stop Xabi’s words. 

“Don’t, Xabi. Don’t. I know how it has always been with you two.” 

He sighed and rubbed his mouth before taking another long drink. He looked at Xabi and Stevie sharply, taking in the subtle changes now that they had finally acknowledged the insane chemistry between them. A chemistry so strong that despite his best efforts, had also called out to him. 

One he had tried to resist and had done so much to forget.He always regretted leading Sergio Ramos on. It had been a nice interlude, but Ramos had fallen much deeper than he had ever meant for him to do. He knew that was the reason why Casillas always gave him the stinkeye whenever they got called up for National team duty. 

Yet it was always there. Whenever their lines got switched, or whenever one of them got roughly checked. Everyone knew not to fuck with Xabi and Nando if they didn’t want nasty retaliation from Stevie. And if Stevie was checked...Nando felt his cheeks go warm when he remembered how he had viciously speared Giroud when he had shoved Stevie into the boards.

“More like how it’s always been between all of us.” 

Stevie added, catching Nando’s eyes and showing him that they were on the same level. Xabi snorted, the ice cubes in his mug clinking as he raised it to take another sip. 

“Can’t deny that. Hell, the entire  _ league _ knows that.”

Xabi murmured, wincing when the alcohol went down fast. Nando snorted.

“So how do we proceed now? You and Stevie already have come to some kind of agreement. Where does that leave me then?”

Nando asked, his tone so even that Stevie and Xabi could tell he was working hard at keeping that tone. The fact that Nando was making an effort and not letting his temper get a hold of him was a positive sign that they could maybe make this work. Stevie glanced at Xabi, who gave him a subtle nod to go ahead.

Stevie knew that it wouldn’t make sense for Xabi to make the first move at having Nando join them. Although there was a pull between them, Stevie knew that the pull was much stronger between himself and Nando. Maybe eventually, the pull between both of them would be stronger. But right now, Stevie was the center of that equation and he was the one to extend the invitation to Nando. 

He put the plastic glass on the edge of the desk and slowly moved towards Nando, telegraphing all of his movements so that Nando could either accept or reject what he was offering. So far, Nando sat silently, watching Stevie through heavy-lidded eyes, giving no indication that he wanted Stevie to back away. He sat still, knocking back the last of his drink and watching as Stevie knelt down in between Nando’s spread legs. 

He put his hands on Nando’s thighs and reached for Nando’s belt, but was stopped by Nando, who looked at him with dark, pensive eyes.

“A kiss first.”

It was said so softly and so quietly that if Stevie hadn’t been listening to it, he would have missed it. He lifted himself up, bracing his hands on Nando’s thighs as he pressed his mouth against Nando’s. He closed his eyes as he sank into the kiss, tasting the vodka and coke and Nando’s musky taste that made desire pool in his groin yet again. Nando moaned and the desire rose into a heat that he could feel burning in his face and his bare chest. 

Nando’s hands where on his shoulders, then skimming down his back, then around his waist, tugging upwards until Stevie was sitting on his lap. His hands went to the buttons on Stevie’s trousers, slipping them off before he slipped his fingers inside. Stevie moaned against Nando’s mouth as the fingers worked themselves inside out. He was still loose from earlier and it was easy for Nando to slip two, then three fingers inside. He finger-fucked Stevie, twisting his hand and pressing hard to hit the bundle of nerves inside of him. Stevie gasped and broke off the kiss, his pupils fully blown and his breathing coming in rapid and shallow pants as his desire increased and he could feel the crest of an orgasm building up.

“You going to fuck him on the chair or on the bed?”

Xabi’s ragged voice broke through the fog of lust, bringing him back to the moment enough to turn and look at his...Line mate? Partner? Lover? Who was watching the proceedings with dark eyes, his hand in half undone trousers. 

“Bed, of course. And then if he’s a good boy, I’ll watch him fuck you.” Nando growled softly, making Stevie make a small sound in the back of his throat at the idea of doing just that. 

Xabi laughed softly as he stood up, his trousers barely staying on his hips and his erection jutting out in nearly full display as he did.

“It’s all yours. Make it count.”

Nando laughed, a low and predatory laugh as he nudged Stevie to move to the bed, where he laid down, propping himself on his elbows to watch Nando strip. He had seen him do that many times before, but it was never so erotic as it was at that moment. Nando’s movements were economical and precise as he slipped out of his clothing and climbed onto the bed and over Stevie’s body. 

Their eyes met briefly and Nando smiled at him before he kissed him, nipping at his lower lip before he moved to suck on Stevie’s chest. It was painful, but it felt so damned good to be marked like that. He groaned as Nando’s hand went to his cock, stroking it slowly, adding just enough pressure and friction to make his groan deepen and his hips jerk as he sought release. So intent was he on reaching his pleasure that he  was quite surprised when his legs were pushed up against his chest and Nando was breaching him. 

“God! Stevie! Stevie! God you feel so good!”

Nando murmured as he went in slowly until he was completely sheathed in Stevie, who winced as Nando moved his hips just so. His eyes rolled into his head and he moaned long and loud as Nando pulled out all the way only to slam into him again. He did this two more times, making him slide around on the already filthy sheets before he sped up and established a rhythm that had Stevie moaning and gasping as Nando put his mark on him.

_ “Harder! Fuck him harder!” _

Xabi whispered hoarsely, Stevie moaned, feeling his face, then his body flush once it hit him that Xabi hadn’t been kidding about watching him get fucked. It was so wrong, yet it turned him on to be watched, to have the two of them lavishing attention on him after waiting for so long to have them acknowledge him like this. 

_ “Good. Good. You’re both so hot like that. Just like that.” _

It was a strangled whisper, nearly lost in the dirty sounds that Nando and Stevie were making as Nando moved faster and faster, his thrusts getting harder and erratic and making Stevie see sparks as Nando hit that spot. White spots began to build up in the corner of his vision as Nando moved harder, faster, until they engulfed his vision and he was exploding. 

He heard his own shouts mingled with Nando’s, followed by Xabi’s own drawn out moan, followed by a collapsing Nando and then...It was blissfully black. 

Steive came to when Nando and Xabi crawled into the bed. All of them had cleaned themselves off as they moved to lie on either side of him, wrapping their arms loosely around his middle. Stevie should have protested and maybe make Nando go back to his room, but he was too warm and too comfortable to do so. He knew he was being irresponsible, but he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn just then. Not when this was all he had wanted for so long. He would draw it out as long as possible. He needed this and if they were willing to give it to him, he wasn’t going to complain. 

Besides, he still hadn’t gotten to fuck either of them yet. 

~*~*~*~

Adam was sleepily pouring milk into his mug of tea when he felt Can’s bony elbow dig into his side, nearly making him spill it all over the table.  Adam put down the milk and was about to tear into Can when he saw the reason for Can’s poking him. 

“What the-Oh my bloody God!” 

Adam interrupted himself, his anger dissipating when he saw Alonso, Steve, and Torres enter the dining room, the old tension that clung to them completely dissipated. They weren’t as wound up and overly careful with each other as they had been the past couple of months as they tried to figure out where to go. They were utterly comfortable with each other like they way that they had been years ago and Adam could just see the hint of a bruise on Steve’s neck. He would have missed it if Torres  hadn’t put his hand on Steve’s shoulder as he said something that made all three laugh as they shared in what was clearly a private joke. 

“Fucking finally.” 

Adam’s head shot up as Casillas and Ramos walked by, making Adam notice that most of the old guard was watching Torres, Steve, and Alonso. 

“I wonder how much money is being exchanged at this moment.” 

Adam muttered to Can, who only raised his eyebrows and grinned. 

“Loads. Speaking of...You owe me forty pounds”

Adam rolled his eyes at that, but still dug into his pocket for his wallet. 

Although he was happy that Alonso and Torres had finally gotten their heads outta their asses, would it have killed them to do it  _ after _ the skills competition?

Still, he couldn’t really bitch that much. 

At least one obstacle to the Cup was gone.


	8. I'm Ready, I'm Ready For This, I'm Ready For It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The All Star Game continues and it's now become a matter of pride for the Northern Division to win it for Stevie. Xabi and Nando in the meantime, both come to the painful conclusion that they made promises that they simply couldn't keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it has taken a long time to again update this story. It was a pretty hectic time since I was cleaning up work and personal issues and I got some major writer's block that I recently was able to shake off. This is the last chapter of the All Star Game. The next chapters will follow the season end and the development of the relationship between the three and choices that they will make.
> 
> Proofed, but if errors appear they will be fixed at a later time. Chapter title comes from Kodaline. 
> 
> Also, in case anyone's interested, here's the KHL video that inspired this:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKwHbaZfoLw

Stevie was shifting around on the bench and trying to not wince at the pain in his behind as he waited for the relays to start. It was enjoyable, the activity that caused that pain, but it didn’t make sitting there, waiting to be called up to take part of the relay any easier. He let out a soft huff of annoyance before Ramos dug a sharp elbow into his side, making him yelp.

“You shouldn’t be this nervous for a relay. Or is there something else you want to share with the class?”

Stevie felt his face heat up at the comment and he gave Sergio the best stink eye he could manage. Which wasn’t effective,since all that Sergio did was grin beatifically at him before turning to chat with Bale, who was staring at both of them with narrowed eyes. Stevie snorted and turned to look for Nando and Xabi and tried to not make it painfully obvious that he was looking for them. 

Despite the league basically knowing that they finally sealed the deal after so long, he wanted to be low key for the game. He was already getting smirks and pointed looks and he knew that it would get worse as the season wore on. This weekend was going to be the last bit of a break before the storm picked up. He was going to make it last for as long as possible. 

He was still mulling about the situation when the linesman came up to the bench.

“Gerrard, Allen, Bale, you’re up for the relay.”

Conversations dried up as they all hauled themselves over the partition to get on the ice. He took the second spot, but was shoved in first position by Allen, who took the second place with Bale rounding out the end.

“You’re fast, but we want to win this. No offence, Gerrard.” 

Allen muttered as he shoved his helmet on and tightened it.  He looked back at Allen and at Bale, and nodded. 

“None taken. I’ve seen both of you skate.”

Stevie offered, when it was obvious that Allen was expecting him to say something. It was true, and he wasn’t annoyed. Bale was tall and fast. Stevie had seen him go after loose pucks and he could vouch for the speed of the taller man. Allen was right and he also knew that winning was now a matter of personal pride for the Northern Division and they were going to do whatever it took to get those points. 

“Allright, Gerrard?”

Bale asked, his voice a bit high due to adrenaline and excitement.

“Alright, Bale. Let’s do this.”

He skated up to the line and grabbed his stick, twisting his hands around it as he waited for the whistle. He took a steadying breath and when he heard the whistle blow, he took off like a bat out of hell. He didn’t think about how loud the cheering was as he did his first loop, his legs working fast as he saw Allen ahead, his hand out to grab his stick from him. He could hear his lungs burning as he skated faster than he had in recent memory. Allen got clearer and he just needed a few more strides. Just a few more yards and he had slapped the stick in Allen’s hand and bent over, his momentum carrying him a few more yards until he was able to climb back into the box. 

“You did good.”

He looked up to see Nando grinning at him and bumped shoulders with him. He looked up and saw Xabi standing on the ice, grinning at him before he took his place at the second relay with Ramos and Silva. 

“Thanks. But it’s Allen and Bale that carried it.” 

Stevie replied, grabbing his water bottle and squirting water into his mouth. He swallowed a bit of it before spitting the rest out.

“Charming.”

Lallana muttered, giving him a friendly smack in the arm.  Nando growled at that, making Lallana laugh.

“Ease off, Torres. We know he’s yours.”

Nando bared his teeth and Stevie flushed again, making him wonder if ti was going to be like that the entire weekend. 

“Can you all kindly shut it? I am right here.”

Stevie growled, making the other two snicker and jostle amongst themselves before the whistle made everyone’s attention focus on the relay again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Stevie looked at the burlap covered hockey stick with skepticism and then back up at Nando and Lallana, who were cackling with glee at Stevie’s expression. 

“Oh relax, Captain Fantastic! It’s going to be great, I promise!” Lallana managed to get out after finally getting control over his laughter. 

“It’s safe. We tested it out.”

Stevie’s eyebrows raised up at that and Nando elbowed Lallana sharply. 

“Don’t ask. Just go and do it. Trust me on this. We need all the points we can get.”

Can nodded as he shuffled closer to the huddle. 

“Yeah, I mean, look at what the Southern Division are doing.”

Ramos was the one that was up next for the trick shot competition and he had discarded the stick and a puck for a quiver of toy arrows, a toy bow, and a Robin Hood hat. They all fell silent as they watched and waited to see what he was going to do with all of that. 

“Is he fucking kidding?” 

Stevie heard Xabi mutter as he skated up to them, jostling them a bit to get a better vantage point to see the ridiculousness that was Ramos’ trick shot attempt. They could see DeGea’s shoulders shaking and his grin through his mask as he waited for Ramos. He got into position as Ramos put the hat on, slung the quiver on his back and pulled out an arrow with a suction cup on the end that he proceeded to notch on the bow as he skated towards DeGea and shoot it. 

DeGea, catching on, pretended to collapse when the arrow bounced off his chest and skittered across the ice. It brought a load of laughs and cheers from the crowds and Stevie had to admit that they needed to step up their game if they were going to actually be contenders. He was a bit skeptical of the plan, but didn’t have any other alternatives to suggest in place of it. 

So he clamped his mouth shut and occasionally snorted in laughter as they watched Ramos shoot arrows with pucks on the end and miss everytime. 

After three tries, Ramos swept off his hat and took a bow on the ice before gliding off, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he passed by Casillas. They smacked each other on the shoulder as they passed each other by: Ramos to take his place on the bench and Casillas to take his place in the net. 

Soon enough, it was time for Stevie to put on a show. 

“So just to ease your mind, we have fire extinguishers here in case it burns too long. It won’t, but just in case. Now get out there and make us proud.”

One of the trainers told him as he lit the stick on fire before Stevie skated out there on the ice and grabbed the puck. His focus narrowed down on Casillas in his net at the end of the rink and he skated with the puck, doing a few fancy moves to let the suspense build before he slapped it into the top corner. 

Casillas caught the puck and hurled it down the ice as Stevie yet again got ready, this time, doing loops and twirls as Lallana had suggested earlier before shooting it from a weird angle and getting it in as a bounce and a soft goal.

The cheering went through the roof on that one and Stevie skated past Casillas, holding his stick out despite it nearly burnt down to nothing as to not come in contact with anything flammable. Casillas laughed as he scooped out the puck and threw it down the ice, pushing up his mask to congratulate Stevie on the trick.

Stevie nodded his thanks, figuring any words would be lost in the roar of the crowd and skated off to where the trainer had a bucket of water that Stevie dipped his stick in, extinguishing the flames completely. The trainer took it and Stevie skated up to his teammates, who cheered as he skated by. He gave a half-hearted wave that everyone ate up and embarrassed him to no end. He accepted that it was his due, but it didn’t mean that he was comfortable with it. Nevertheless, he gamely accepted his due and tried to hide within the huddle and let others have their day in the sun. 

He caught Xabi and Nando’s eyes and felt himself turning even redder and trying to look everywhere except at them lest he give them all away. 

“Why so shy? I’d be screaming it from the rooftops that I’ve got them in my bed.” 

Bale, out of all people, whispered in his ear before skating away laughing, leaving Stevie scarlet and wondering if he could kill Bale and make it look like an accident. 

~*~*~*~*~

Xabi was the first one to wake up the morning of the actual All Star Game. Something that utterly surprised him, considering the alcohol that they had all put away the night before.  It had been a wild night and he could taste it and feel it as he squinted up at the light that shone through the crack of the curtains that hadn’t been quite properly shut. 

He shifted a bit and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found himself in between two bodies. His mind still fuzzy from the alcohol, he looked at who had fallen into his bed and laughed quietly when he saw Stevie and Nando, curled up on either side of him. Their arms were wrapped loosely around his middle and both of them had instinctively tucked themselves in under his arms. They were warm and alive and Xabi looked up at the ceiling of the hotel room and wondered exactly why he had been resisting being with them for so long. 

He didn’t feel out of place. In fact, he rather felt at home there in between them. He liked being surrounded by the warmth of Stevie and Nando and waking up next to them. Even though it was the first time, he didn’t mind. In fact, he wanted this all the time. And even though he knew that Nagore had called it and he had made a promise...He was also fully aware that there was no way he could keep it. Not without breaking their hearts. 

And that was not something he was willing to do again. He simply couldn’t.

_ “You were right. I’m so sorry. But you were right.”  _

He thought as he glanced over to his phone and saw the texts and missed calls that had gone to his screen. He wasn’t looking forward to coming home and signing the papers Nagore had ready the minute that they had discussed his return to Liverpool. She had seen the signs for years. The signs that he had refused to see and he knew that Nagore had every right to be suspicious of his motives and that when he came home, he would not only have to admit his errors, he would also have to explain to his children why their family wouldn’t ever be together again like they used to be.

Stevie stirred and burrowed deeper into his side, making Xabi snap out of his thoughts and turn towards him.  

He would have to deal with that on Monday. Right now, all he wanted to do was enjoy being with Stevie and Nando without smokescreens for the first time.

~*~*~*~*~

It was yet another commercial break and everyone was taking the opportunity to take a break. Some players were milling around talking, while others were taking a drink.  Nando himself was taking the opportunity to get a drink and clean up. He skated to the bench, grabbed a towel, and pushed his helmet up to wipe his sweaty face. Once he was done, he grinned at the scoreboard.

Even though they all knew that it was just for fun, they still jumped at the chance to score and win. Right now, in the last ten minutes of the third that motto was painfully obvious. The goals had climbed into the double digits and everyone had at least one goal to their name. Some, like Stevie, had three. No one was holding any grudges though. Even if the Southern Division lost, he knew that their players weren’t going to be mad about it. It was the last chance to blow off some steam before the work of making it into the post-season started. The Birds had a pretty good chance, but they didn’t want to blow it by being careless and he knew that Newcastle and the Spurs were gunning for the wild card spots that were left. 

He pushed his helmet back on and tossed the towel into the bucket behind the bench and turned back to the game.  As he was adjusting his helmet, Sergio skated by and stopped in front of him.

“So you guys gonna make a go a it then?”

Nando blinked at the question, his cheeks flushing as he nodded.

Sergio’s eyes widened at the simple answer and his smile, although not as wide, was genuine.

“It’s good. You finally found each other.  It’s good. I’m happy for you.”

Nando’s face flushed a darker red at those words. Even though he knew Sese wasn’t lying, he could taste the old hurt and disappointment in the words and if he was going to make things right with Stevie and Xabi, he had to do the same with Sese. 

Just like he was going to have to make it right with Ollala.

“I...Sese...I’m sorry for that time. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m sorry I never said that to you before.”

Sese’s eyes got even wider and his smile a bit crooked as he accepted the apology that he had been yearning to hear ever since that time when he had woken up to see Nando pulling on his clothes and leaving with just a perfunctory kiss to his forehead.  It wasn’t going to completely wipe away the pain, but at least he had gotten the much needed closure he had wanted.

“Thank you.”

The whistle was blown and game play was resumed, with Nando skating over to take the face-off against Messi, who flashed a grin briefly as they waited for the linesman to drop the puck.

“We’re not going to let you have the win that easily, you know.”

Messi mumbled, making Nando laugh.

“Who says we need you to go easy on us?”

Messi’s grin was wiped off by another sharp whistle and by the puck hitting the ice where Nando scooped it to Allen.

And they were off.

~*~*~*~*~

Stevie was rubbing his eye as he waited for the kettle to boil so he could have a cuppa. After all of the excitement of the weekend, he was glad to be back in his quiet flat. He did miss Xabi and Nando, but he knew that it wasn’t quite the time yet for them to share a space. They needed to be apart for them to work out what they needed to with their families and then go from there. Despite wanting it to go faster, he knew he had to again exercise patience. A thing that was easier now that he knew exactly where they stood. 

He knew, from the look Xabi had given him after he had gotten the keys to the new car and being declared the MVP, that there was no going back for them. There was a determination in Xabi’s eyes he had only seen a few times before and Stevie knew that it was going to happen no matter what. Xabi had given him his word, his body, and his love. 

There was no going back. 

Just like Nando had done as well. He had seen a steel resolution in Nando’s eyes as they had gone to his room while Xabi excused himself to make a phone call. He had felt it when Nando had taken his hand and pulled him close, kissing him as soon as the door had closed behind them. They all were done playing games. It was going to happen. 

The kettle whistling pulled him out of his thoughts and he moved quickly to make his tea. He splashed some milk into it and took it to the island, where he picked up his phone.

And nearly dropped it when he read the first text.

_ “It’s done between Nagore and I. I’ll be coming home to you this evening.” _

Stevie’s hand shook as he scrolled down to the next text.

_ “I’ve cleared it up with Ollala. It’s complicated, but it will work. Trust me on this. Nando.” _

He dropped the phone then as it him how bitter victory could taste.

And yet, despite it, he couldn’t regret it at all. 

Not when he was finally getting what he had yearned for desperately all those years.

Now all he needed was the Stanley Cup and it would be all complete.


	9. Older, Shoulder to Shoulder, Cause We Don't Have Separate Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xabi and Nando deal with the repercussions of their choices (sometimes not that well) while the playoffs are in full swing. Stevie and the team win the Division Championship and in turn, have to get ready to face Real Madrid in the finals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in between chapters. I was in Spain/Portugal and just now managed to get this penultimate chapter sorted out and compressed a few months into one chapter for the Stanley Cup finals for the last chapter. I wanted the narrative to have a sharp and frantic feel, since they are going into a hectic time.   
> Proofed, but if mistakes creep up, they will be fixed when I catch them.  
> Prince of Wales Trophy-It is awarded to whichever team wins the Eastern Conference. (The Northern Conference) and if the Captain touches it, it will jinx them and not get them the Stanley Cup.   
> Title is from Kaiser Chief's "Parachutes"

Xabi got the divorce papers the morning after the regular season ended in April and he and Stevie were fucking their brains out on the bathroom floor on a rare day off from games or practices. They were the fourth seeded team and it was a respectable end to their season and now, they were waiting for their first match up. 

“Jesus, Stevie.” Xabi whispered harshly as Stevie held onto him and Stevie’s fingers bit deep into the skin of his hips with each thrust. Thrusts that were hard and fast and aggressive.Xabi held onto the edge of the tub to keep from slipping on the linoleum, groaning whenever Stevie hit that spot just right. 

“Christ,  _ Xabee _ , Christ!” 

Stevie groaned as his hips snapped hard against Xabi, his fingers digging deeper and telling Xabi he would have bruises later on. He didn’t care. He just wanted to feel Stevie, have him mark him all over and relish having all of him after denying himself for so long. For having gone the long way about it and lying to everyone about his feelings. 

He wanted to be marked to remember that despite the broken relationships and the angry backlash, he was doing what he should have been doing in the first place. He hoped, in time, he would be able to repair those relationships that had suffered because he hadn’t come clean.

His mind was pulled back when Stevie let out a shout and came in stuttering thrusts, collapsing over him and pressing him hard into the side of the tub, his cock trapped and throbbing with the need for release. He moaned a bit when Stevie slid out of him and gently positioned him on his back onto the rug. 

Xabi was still fogged out with the sex and nearly shouted when Stevie’s mouth surrounded his cock. His hands grabbed Stevie’s short hair and he scratched at his scalp while that warm, wet mouth sucked and licked and took him in deep. Xabi bit his lip hard as Stevie’s mouth worked his cock, getting the pressure just right until Xabi found release.

They went to the kitchen after getting cleaned up and dressed and that was when Xabi again saw the envelope that he had opened earlier. He sighed and only put it in the folder that was designated for his correspondence. Stevie didn’t say anything as he then put the kettle on and picked up his mobile to check out anything that they had missed. 

Xabi turned at that time and looked at Stevie, who was smirking at his mobile before looking up at Xabi, his eyes dark with grim amusement as he did. 

“What’s happening?”

Stevie shook his head and laughed in clear disbelief.

“We’re playing Manchester United in the first round.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Nando was glad that the kids are out with the nanny when he came back to their house. It’s already been snapped up, even though they just put it on the market. Ollala wasn’t keen on keeping it, even though Nando had assured her that he didn’t mind. 

She had shaken her head as she had folded her cardigan closed over her body before she crossed her arms in front of her chest. He knew it was a defensive move and had let it pass. He couldn’t let himself get offended. Not when he was the one responsible for her behaviour. 

“I’m going back to Spain. I won’t need it, so you might as well sell it and use the funds to buy a suitable place for the children in Madrid.”

He winced at the brittle sharpness of her tone.

“That’s only fair. We can do that.” 

She cast him a baleful look. 

“That’s actually more than you deserve, Nando. But I can’t say that I was caught unaware.”

She let out a sharp laugh that made him wince.

“Your mother, she did try and warn me about Steven. She had seen it before I had, but I thought you had gotten over your infatuation with him now that you were older.”

She shook her head and her eyes were glassy with tears she didn’t want to shed in front of him.

“I wanted to believe that it was just to get your focus and your career on track. That things would be like they were in Madrid and Chelsea and that Steven would be relegated to the past, but I was wrong about how deep your feelings were for him.”

Nando bit his lower lip and ran his hands through his hair. 

“I didn’t plan for it to happen.”

He knew it was a short and weak defence, but Ollala nodded. 

“I know. And that’s why I can’t be angrier over all of this. You didn’t look for him. You didn’t set yourself up to be in his orbit. It happened like it should have happened years ago and we were both utterly blind to not have seen it coming.”

Her pale face crumpled and she turned her head to regain her composure. 

Nando bit his lip and looked away as well. He swallowed hard as he tried to fumble out words to explain the unexplainable. She was right about Steven and Liverpool. He loved them with a different intensity than he loved Ollala and the life that he had built with her. 

He tried out certain things in his mind, but discarded everything as not enough or too much. 

He hadn’t said anything about Xabi because he honestly had no idea how that had ever come to pass. Xabi had always been there in the background, but never had he thought it would be the three of them, with Stevie as their anchor. Yet Xabi had, in his quiet and unassuming way, found a place in his heart alongside Stevie. 

But it was something that he couldn’t state to Ollala. At least not until the divorce was utterly completed and nothing could come back to haunt him. He had loved her, but he wasn’t going to be that much of an asshole as to hurt her needlessly. He understood how angry and humiliated she was over not only her seemingly happy life ending, but also the fact that she was being left for a man. If she knew that she was being left for two men, she’d never recover from that knowledge. So he let it lie and tried his best to not antagonise her any further.

It had been working so far, since they could be civil to each other. Unlike when he had first broken the news.

It was different than that Monday three months ago after the All Star Game. She hadn’t said anything to him after he had told her about Steven. That silence had lasted for a few moments before she walked up to him and slapped him.

It didn’t hurt him, used to worse hits on the ice, but it disoriented him and shocked him.

“You fucking bastard! After what we built together? After all these years, you’re going to leave us for  _ him? _ ”

She said all of that in a whispered shout and she looked like she wanted to follow up the slap, but suddenly, she deflated and fell gracelessly into the chair she had vacated. 

“When did it start?”

Nando swallowed before he told her. “Since the first time I was traded to Liverpool.”

She gave a soft cry at that. “All those years...And yet you still chose to come here for him?”

Nando shook his head. “Stevie had nothing to do with that. I was done at Chelsea. Klopp offered another chance and I took it. Stevie didn’t even come into play until later.”

She laughed, slightly hysterically as he said that. 

“And that’s supposed to make it all better? You’re walking out on us! Nothing will make this better! Nando...Just...Just go.”

He went and lied to Stevie and Xabi about how things had gone, since he didn’t want for Stevie to struggle with even more guilt over the situation. Xabi’s upcoming divorce was a hard enough pill to swallow and he wasn’t about to add to it. Not when they were gearing up for the playoff scramble. 

When they had met with their lawyers, things had gone much more smoothly than that conversation, albeit with legalese and now that terms had been hammered out, Ollala had thawed out somewhat. She was still brittle and hurt, but at least she was civil. He guessed that it was due to him sticking to his side of the agreement and not bringing Stevie around. 

It didn’t make going back to pick up his stuff easier, though.

“I should be back in two hours. It should give you enough time to get your stuff out.”

She told him as she grabbed her purse and walked out without another word. Nando shrugged and called his movers. 

Well, that could have gone worse. 

~*~*~*~*

Xabi wiped his face with the already saturated towel and makes a face at the towel before chucking it in the bin. One of their trainers saw that and tossed him a new one without a word. Xabi nodded in thanks and wiped off the sweat that he knew wouldn’t completely clean off until he got to the showers. Although during the playoffs, it sometimes felt like he wouldn’t get clean until the last game of the finals, that the grime has accumulated to the point that he needs to claw it off after everything was said and done. 

He put the towel into the bucket and looked up at the clock. They had two periods left and a one goal lead. He knew that they had to squeeze out another goal to crawl into the semi-finals and he was thrumming with anticipation and doing that or making the play for Lalsy or Nando to do so. They were the ones with the golden touch this game, despite Can and Sturridge and even Wee Joe Allen pulling some incredible goals in the last few games of the season and in the first round playoffs against Manchester United. Now that they had shocked most of the league with their clear dominance of Paris St. Germain to get to the semi-finals, it was even more pressing to finish it in a sweep. No one was going to take the chance of dropping a game and then losing the series. 

Xabi’s eyes slide from the clock and onto the ice. It’s pretty frantic out there, with both sides playing the fast and rough hockey that only comes out in the playoff chase and in the last game of a possible sweep. He can see Zlatan getting rough with wee Joe and it makes him clamp his mouth shut and his lips thin. Although wee Joe is feisty as hell, Xabi didn’t like the tactics that St. Germain is employing. He understood that they were desperate and they wanted to force a fifth game to turn their luck, but it still wasn’t enough of an excuse for their tactics. 

Xabi made a mental note that next time he was on the ice, he was going to hipcheck the shit out Zlatan to get the message across. He keeps his eyes on the game, watching as Lallsy, Can, Stu, Wee Joe and Stevie are pressing against St. Germain and not letting them anywhere near Mignolet. He approves of the tactic of keeping them corralled and unable to tie the game while the time runs out. He would like it better though if they had a chance to score. 

“Keep shooting!!” Klopp shouted towards the ice, mirroring Xabi’s concerns. 

Stevie was the one that hears the brunt of that shout and even from the distance, Xabi could see that the instructions have sunk in and he’ll do as Klopp asked. 

He saw it from the bench, how it materialized: Klopp switching out Stu for Nando, Lallsy getting just at the right angle in front of Trapp’s net, Stevie breaking away and shooting towards Nando, Nando angling his stick and guiding it to Lallsy’s stick before getting checked out by Zlatan and then the goal. 

~*~*~*~*~

Stevie looked at the Prince of Wales trophy with what looked like nervousness mixed with something like pride that disappeared as quickly as Nando and Xabi noticed it. They also noticed that Stevie was following tradition and wasn’t touching it. In fact, he was standing as far as humanly possible, yet still being in the same shot at the trophy. 

“Didn’t think he was  _ that _ superstitious.” 

Xabi snorted at Wee Joe’s muttered observation. Nando grinned, but shook his head.

“Can you blame him? We haven’t gotten this close in years. He’s not taking any chances.”

Nando explained, making Wee Joe make a noise of agreement as they turned to watch the commissioner and a few other officials shake Stevie’s hand and gesture to the trophy. Stevie goes through the whole thing and grins apologetically when they try and get him closer to the trophy. He moves slightly and stops. There’s more coaxing, but Xabi can see that same pleasantly mulish expression that was classic Stevie when he was trying to not be rude, but wouldn’t be convinced to do something he didn’t want to do. 

They seem to get it and stop badgering him to do anything else and take the requisite pictures after they had won a hard fought battle against Manchester City.  None of the other Birds players looked at the sad faces of Manchester City.  Especially not when it was just a swift stroke of luck that they came out on top on the seventh game. It really could have gone either way, but the Birds had gotten it. 

Xabi would have felt a slight bit of guilt over that, but he shoved that emotion down. He couldn’t afford it. Not when they were coming into the Finals to face Real Madrid.  His former team and the defending champions. They too, had fought a brutal and vicious battle with Barcelona. 

“We can do it.” Klopp told them when they were all in the dressing room and stripped of most of their gear. Some of the younger guys were muttering, nervous and jittery over the last opponent they’d have to face to get their shot at glory and to lift the Stanley Cup over their heads. Stevie, Xabi, Nando and the old guard was quiet, none of them wanting to say anything that could possibly come and haunt them later on. 

“We got this far when no one expected it of us. Real Madrid doesn’t have the element of surprise behind them. But  _ we _ do. Remember that.”

Klopp told them, in his quiet, but authoritative voice. He knew what he was talking about. After all, he had been the one that got them to the finals when no one was expecting anything out of them. He had been the one to justify his signings and had held back from telling anyone to shut their gobs when it worked out better than they had expected. 

It was his quiet words and his icy blue eyes that made the mutterings stop in the room and look at him with renewed determination. 

“For old time’s sake, then?”

Nando muttered, bumping shoulders and jostling Stevie and in turn, jostling Xabi as well. 

Stevie looked at him and snorted a laugh while Xabi grinned.

They were going to do it. 

They were going to win the Cup. 


	10. I Have, I Have Got To Stop Smiling, It Gives The Wrong Impression, I Love You All The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stanley Cup Finals have started and they turn into an acrimonious rivalry between Liverpool and Real Madrid. Stevie knew it would be hard going, but is determined to win it. Helps that he's got the whole team and Klopp believing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter moves pretty damned fast, since I ended up condensing six games into one chapter. In hockey, the Captain gets first dibs on hoisting it over his head, but he then passes it on. There's a whole lot of smacking each other and even kissing (though not as much as in football, I've noticed) after they have won it.  
> It also does get pretty brutal between teams and some rivalries take decades to die. Avalanche and Red Wings is one that comes to mind. Boston (ugh) and Montreal is another.   
> So thank you for reading this and it has been edited, but if issues persist, they will be fixed later.   
> Title is from Manic Street Preachers' "You Stole the Sun From My Heart."

Stevie stood tall as he waited for the faceoff to begin and refused to be intimidated by Ramos and Ronaldo as they skated about and traded jabs with each other. Bale, having been traded after the All-Star Game to Real only chewed on his lip and looked at the clock. Third game in and neither team had a clear dominance. Real had won the first game easily and Klopp had been fit to be tied. 

“You fought so hard to get here!” He had told them that night after they had lost. None of them could make any eye contact with their disappointed coach. The turnovers and soft goals that had lost them the game were still fresh in their minds. Stevie was nursing a bloody nose from Ramos checking him and Xabi was rotating his shoulder, feeling twinges from when he was involved in trying to dig a puck out of the corner and slap it to Can. Lallana himself was chewing on his bottom lip while Hendo was boring holes into the floor, since he had been the cause of the last goal. 

“You have to get out there and actually  _ win.  _ You can’t coast. Not out there and not with them. This team is so close. Six more games. You decide what you want to do with them. I know I want to win. I can coach you to win. You have to want to win.”

He had said the last quietly before he exited the dressing room, leaving Stevie to raise up morale even though he wasn’t feeling it anymore than the rest of them in the room. 

He stood up and tossed the bloody towel into the bin before he cleared his throat.

“Kloppo’s said it all, mates. We have to want it, not just say that we do. You all know that it’s my last shot. I’m not going to guilt you with that. We know it is. Just like we know that all of us have to play like we want it. Not just me. We have six games. Let’s make them count.”

He turned around and started stripping off his uniform. He was bone tired and he didn’t know if he had been captainy enough for the rest of the team. He wouldn’t know really, until the last game, if he was being honest. So he didn’t think about it the rest of the night. 

He just stripped, showered and drove Xabi and Nando back to what had once been his flat, but was now theirs as well. Everyone else had turned a blind eye to it, despite it being an open secret in the league. But then, they had been discreet, other than grabbing rides from each other, if an outsider cared to look, nothing looked to be amiss. Just three old time friends living together now that all of them were divorced and more or less played on the same line. 

They hadn’t done much of anything that night except watch a movie and then go to sleep, since the morning after was going to be brutally punishing. None of them felt amourous. Not when the playoffs were looming and Stevie had just had a vociferous argument with Alex after they had entered the flat. Nothing else was said about the locker room or the chats as the days then led up to the second game. 

A game that saw Stevie lose his temper with Sergio Ramos during the dying moments of the second period and set the tone of the series after that. 

Stevie just wanted to take the damned face off and get the game moving after another (unfair) call of goalie interference. As if anyone could interfere with Casillas! Although Stevie had a reputation as a hard man, he was not ashamed to admit that he had a healthy respect and fear for the Real Madrid Vikings goalie. He had seen Casillas challenge other players getting into his crease with such fury that it was an unspoken rule that if you got in his face, he had a right to smack you around. 

In fact, he was sure that Casillas had gone out of his crease to check Suarez in the Southern League and smash him. He had also done it to Neymar, who had to be helped off the ice after the hit and had to sit out the game. Casillas was  _ vicious. _ So he stayed clear. 

But Lallsy hadn’t gotten the memo yet and now they had a delay and a face-off to take. He wasn’t going to take it, but Klopp signalled that he was the one to do it. Xabi and Wee Joe were right behind him, so he figured out what it was that was needed. A shot to Xabi, who’d pass it to Wee Joe and then to Nando or Hendo by the net and hopefully a goal. 

Simple and clean. 

What they hadn’t been counting on was on Ramos being an even bigger arsehole than usual. Stevie groaned inwardly when it was Ramos up front rather than Pokozil (Stevie had to wonder who had the bright idea of thinking that Ozil resembled a  _ Pokemon _ of all things) or Ronaldo. No, it was Ramos, who tended to know  _ exactly  _ what to say to get under anyone’s skin. He was a genius in both being a pain in the hole and on knowing how to make plays and score when he wasn’t able to do so. He was clever and he was dangerous because of that cleverness. 

So Stevie tended to just bulldoze his way through his encounters with the younger player and get it over and done with. Except that these were the playoffs and Ramos was as keen to get his name engraved on the Cup as much as the Liverbirds were. And he had ammunition to do it. 

Stevie got a hint of trouble by Ramos skating up to the circle and smirking at Stevie. But Stevie wasn’t going to take the bait. Not yet. He got ready, bending at the waist and resting his stick on his thigh as he got into the mindspace to win the face off. 

The linesman came up and Stevie clutched his stick tight, waiting for his chance to get the puck to Xabi. He focused his gaze on the painted circle on the ice and waited. 

Ramos skated a bit close and dropped his bomb. 

“ _ Hope you don’t choke up here like you do on Alonso’s cock.” _

Stevie saw red at that remark, but said nothing, just stayed focused on the face off. He heard Ramos snicker and snort at the non-reaction, but didn’t even look up. He only looked up when the linesman skated up to them and dropped the puck. 

Stevie won the face-off, slapping it to Xabi, who slipped it to Wee Joe who took off like a bat out of hell with Ramos and Bale behind him. Stevie took off after them, trusting Xabi to take care of Pokozil and Nando to hem in Isco.  Stevie  himself worked to have a path cleared for Hendo to pull off the goal they needed. 

Ramos was faster and checked Wee Joe, nearly flattening him. Lallsy saw this and scooped up the puck, leaving Stevie to go back and hem in Ramos. Who was going after Lallsy with blood in his eyes as he skated.  Stevie saw this and pushed Ramos towards the boards, keeping him from getting anywhere Lallsy. 

A sudden roar and the sound of an airhorn told him he had been successful. Ramos shoving him and knocking him on his ass was another sign that it had worked out. He only had enough time to stand up and shove back when they were surrounded.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”  Stevie shouted, making Ramos’ turn dark red. 

“You, you fucking cocksucker!”

It was Stevie’s turn to see red and without a second thought, he swung. Ramos’ head snapped back and in seconds, the gloves and helmets were off and they were going at each other. Bale tried to wade in to stop it, but was grabbed by Xabi, who got swung at. Hendo saw this and leapt it, followed by Isco.

And then Casillas came out of his net and all hell broke loose.

He was still thinking about the fight when Ronaldo's voice broke into them.

“How’s the eye, Gerrard?”

Ronaldo sneered at him as they waited for the face-off in the middle of the third period of the third game. The Birds had been in the lead for the past two periods, but Stevie didn’t dare count his chickens yet. And with the extra aggression that Ramos and Ronaldo were employing, he knew that they were determined to ruin his composure and win this game to get ahead. It could have been done, Stevie knew. They had done it against Bayern. They could do it again. He wasn’t going to let them, though. So he kept his mouth shut and pretended that he hadn’t heard them. Even with his eye throbbing dully. Particularly the stitched up eyebrow where Ramos had gotten a good punch in. 

He didn’t give a shit though. He had won the fight. 

“I’m going to take the face-off.”

Stevie was dragged out of his thoughts by Lallsy, who was holding his stick loosely as he looked over at Ramos and Ronaldo. 

Stevie raised an eyebrow at that, making Lallsy grin. 

“We’re going for total annihilation, then?”

Lallsy nodded, his grin getting wider and bordering on manic as he did so. 

Stevie snorted at that as he backed away and let Lallsy take his place, ignoring the hoots and derisive remarks from the Real Madrid players. He knew that they weren’t going to get under Lallsy’s skin since he didn’t have much for them to pick at. Ignoring them, he took the left and waited for Hendo to take the right, both were fully aware of what they needed to do.

It moved quickly, after that. Lallsy won the face off and flipped it to Hendo, who took off with the puck down towards Casillas. He was blocked by Modric and Bale and ended up passing it to Stu with a beautiful no look pass that found the back of the net despite the combined efforts of Isco and Marcelo. 

Casillas smacked his stick on the ice in anger as he scooped the puck out and tossed it to the linesman. Stevie didn't look at him as he skated by to congratulate Stu. The crowd was roaring at the goal, or so Stevie thought. The roars turned into shouts, making Stevie turn around in time to see Ronaldo shove Lallsy, both of them shouting expletives at each other while Bale and Hendo held them back. 

“Break it up! Lallana! Come on! It’s not worth it!”

Hendo shouted, pulling a fighting Lallana away from a fight none of the Birds wanted to have at that moment. 

“Yeah, you would pull away your little bum boy, wouldn’t you, Hendo? Don’t want to get his pretty face all smashed up!”

No one really saw exactly when Hendo managed to get Lallana out of the way, but they all saw when his fist collided with Ronaldo’s face. 

~*~*~*~*~

Xabi taped up his stick with precise and methodic movements, focusing on the white tape as it wound round the blade of his stick. The dressing room was tense and quiet, all of the sounds being swallowed up by the atmosphere of nerves and anticipation. He was pretty sure that one of the rookies had puked in the toilets earlier and he couldn’t find it in him to blame him or tease him. All of them were on edge for what could be the last game of the season. Xabi took a deep breath to calm down then and finished up the stick taping, giving the roll to Nando.

Xabi chanced a sidelong glance at his lover and saw that he was looking slightly pale as he took his time to tape up his stick. Xabi nudged him with his elbow, making Nando give him a tight-lipped smile in return. Xabi sighed and focused on slowing his breathing to keep calm. Especially since he could have easily gone off the deep end. He hadn’t been this nervous about a Game Six in years, not while playing with Real Madrid. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his teammates. He did. Stevie had worked hard to shape them into a cohesive unit and Klopp had given them his all to coach them into achieving the success and position that they were in. No. He trusted Klopp more than any other coach he’d had in the past and his teammates had put heart and soul into getting into the finals. No. It wasn’t it at all. 

He looked up and saw Stevie pulling on his jersey and his chest hurt when he saw the white Liverbird on his chest and he knew it was because of Stevie that he was a bundle of nerves. They had to win it tonight. Stevie, with his face looking more careworn from the newest bruises from games four and five wasn’t going to get another chance. This was it and they had to win it, no questions asked. 

He blew out a breath and closed his eyes in an effort to empty his mind. He wasn’t going to let nerves destroy him before they even got onto the ice. No. They were better than that. He was better than that. So he calmed down and when Klopp came in, he was ready. 

He opened his eyes, grabbed his stick and stuck his helmet on his head as he waited for Klopp to say something after he had done a sweep of the locker room.

“You got this far. It would be a shame to not finish it once and for all.” 

He paused and looked at all of them individually, his gaze boring into them as he made that last sweep. 

“So don’t get distracted from the goal. Get out there and win.”

There was a loud “Fuck yeah!!” from one of the corners, followed by a “Let’s do this!” that was echoed and re-echoed until they were all chanting it as they filed out of the room, the anxiety and tension of earlier channelled into passion and determination to win.

And they were going to win

~*~*~*~*~

“This is certainly a fucker of a game.” Stevie heard Hendo mutter to Lallana as they sat on the bench waiting to go on the ice. The game was tied at one goal apiece and neither one of the teams were willing to give an inch. Casillas was getting a wider berth than usual and Can and Xabi were staying put by Migs, not daring to let any of the Real Madrid players go anywhere near him after the bounce that had ended up netting them their goal. 

Nando was starting to get that bitch face as he tried to get an opening for the last goal and instead, ended up frustrated to the point that he was fuming with barely controlled rage. He only just kept it together, but Stevie knew that look. It was only a matter of time before Nando lost it and they couldn’t afford another fight on the ice again. 

Stevie was sure that the Sports pages weren’t exaggerating when they wrote that out of all the recent finals, there hadn’t been as many penalty minutes as there had been in the Liverpool Liverbirds versus the Real Madrid Vikings. It had been also a huge surprise that despite the fights, no one had been out with a serious injury either. Stitches, contusions, and bruises were accepted as hazards of the jobs and until blood was dripping on the ice, most of them tended to ignore the issue. 

Stevie snorted at Hendo’s words and focused on the ice, grimacing in anger as yet another goal attempt was blocked by Marcelo, who limped off the ice after the puck hit his skate. Ramos was back on the ice and Stevie allowed himself a smirk at the still fading bruises on his face. Ramos in his turn, noticed this and glared at Stevie. A promise of retribution was clear in his dark eyes and Stevie made a mental note of it before he replaced Can.

He hit the ice and moved quickly to intercept a sloppy pass by Isco and took it down the ice, cursing when he saw Ramos and Ronaldo pressing and hemming in so that he wouldn’t reach Nando or Xabi. Wee Joe was holding back, eyeing the situation in case he needed to go forward or pull back to defend. Stevie pulled back then and looked up. Seeing Stu he slapped it over and trusted him to get it somewhere in the vicinity of the net. 

He skated up to the left side, desperately trying to shake off Ramos, since Ronaldo had gone ahead to intercept Stu. He wove through Xabi and Nando and then back towards the blue line in an effort to shake Ramos off and draw him away from them. Xabi and Nando stayed put, since they were fighting to screen Casillas and catch the pass that Stu slapped to Xabi’s direction. Xabi caught it and shot it, making Casillas’ scramble to save the puck that got loose and had Nando and Ronaldo digging for it. 

Ronaldo was the clear winner and took off like a bat out of hell towards Migs, making Stevie and Stu chase him down and Wee Joe get in front and ready to block Ronaldo. Stevie’s lips curled into a snarl as he skated faster than he had in a long time. He knew that the jig would be up if he didn’t stop Ronaldo and Wee Joe was grand, but he wouldn’t be able to do it on his own. 

He caught up with Ronaldo, sliding in position to jam his stick in his way, the momentum sending both of them crashing down and the puck skittering across the ice for Wee Joe to pounce on and get it out in play. He swore his vision went white for a bit when his head hit the ice and he lay there, slightly stunned as Ronaldo disentangled himself and tried to get back into play. Only to let out an expletive and fall back down. 

Stevie got onto his hands and knees and breathed slowly, keeping his eyes shut since the world felt like it was spinning. He stayed like that for several minutes before he chanced opening his eyes and seeing the world had stopped spinning and was only slightly blurry.  He pushed himself to his knees and was about to try standing up when Nando showed up.

“Stevie? You all right? Hang on. Here.” 

His words sounded like Stevie was hearing them underwater and he shook his head, wincing as the lights zoomed across his vision. He didn’t resist when he was hauled up by Nando and their trainer and skated off the rink. He heard Nando say something else, but it was long gone when they got him to medical. 

The trainer got him onto the stretcher and shone a light into his eyes, muttering darkly and making Stevie wince. 

“What’s the damage?” Klopp barked out roughly.

“He got a good knock. Might be a concussion. He’s out of the game.”

Stevie heard. He wanted to protest, but couldn’t find the words to do so and instead sat blinking and trying to not fall off the stretcher. 

Klopp swore at that before turning to Stevie. 

“Stay put, Gerrard. We’ll take care of it.”

He patted Stevie’s shoulder before he exited medical, leaving Stevie staring after him before it proved too much and he had to close his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~

Xabi and Nando exchanged a look when Klopp and Zidane came back, both of them looking grim. Ronaldo had aggravated his knee in the fall and Stevie had gotten a hard enough knock on the head to keep him out. Both teams had lost an important part of their lineup and both were now even more determined to win.

“So how are we doing this?” Xabi asked after Zidane had called for a timeout, allowing everyone to regroup. 

“Keep pressing on Casillas, get Wee Joe, Xabi, and Stu in the front. Nando and Can to defend Migs. We have half a period of play between us and that Cup, got it?”

They nodded and broke off when the linesman whistled. The game was on. 

Real Madrid was furious and kept the puck away from the Birds as much as they could, shooting at Migs as much as they could and barely letting them anywhere near Casillas. There was literal blood in Ramos’ eyes, Xabi noticed as he had to shove him away a couple of times. Ozil felt like he was everywhere and too fast for them to catch and Rodriguez had nearly gotten a goal in if it hadn’t been for Migs catching the puck and holding onto it.

“Clear it! Clear it!” 

He shouted as Migs passed it to Wee Joe who went straight down the ice, zigzagging around Ozil and Rodriguez, past Kroos and stopping at the faceoff circle, looking at who else he could pass it to. He didn’t see anyone free and was about to keep going when Nando finally got free from Isco and Ramos and passed to Hendo, who had replaced Stu. Hendo tilted his stick just so sending the puck over Casillas’ left shoulder. 

Hendo threw his hands up in the air, screaming in glee as Xabi and the others smothered him and half the crowd lost it. 

“Keep the damned lead. Score if you can, but keep that lead!”

Klopp hissed at them, while Real Madrid got even more aggressive. Xabi got smashed into the boards after that, and Wee Joe hip checked Ozil hard as they ran after a puck. Casillas smacked his stick against the ice as Ramos snarled and just shot at Migs, catching Nando in the leg and making him hobble off the ice, Lallsy replacing him and shooting at Casillas, who caught it easily. 

They were still scrambling for the puck, all of them ignoring the chanting happening in the arena when the buzzer sounded and the Bird’s bench emptied on the ice. Xabi was grabbed by Nando, Migs by Can and Hendo and Lallsy were screaming in each other’s faces.

“WE FUCKING DID IT! WE DID IT!”

Nando shouted in Xabi’s face as they embraced, letting go only to skate up to the bench to find Klopp fist pumping, while Stevie and a medical tech stood beside him, pale faced and sweaty, but with a grin nearly splitting his face at the sight. 

“You got the Stanley Cup! Captain Fantastic has got the Cup!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“You sure you can lift it, Captain?” 

Hendo asked as they stood waiting for Bettman to hand it over to Stevie, who was still looking pale as death, but steadier than he had earlier. 

“For this, I’ll make the bleeding effort.” 

Stevie muttered, making Xabi and Nando laugh as Bettman finally gave Stevie the Stanley Cup, which he picked up and lifted over his head, his mouth open in a cheer that was echoed by his teammates and the rest of the Birds fans in the arena. He held it up long enough to do a slow loop around the arena to everyone singing and chanting before handing it to Xabi who roared, kissing it and then passing it to Nando, who then passed it to Hendo.

They had done it. The Birds had won.

Immortality was his.

“Congrats, Stevie. Congrats.”

Xabi whispered, kissing him briefly before Nando took his turn to do so right after Hendo and Lallana thumped him on the back. 

They were separated then, journalists wanting the scoop as well as their teammates and their families filling the ice while Real Madrid disappeared in abject disappointment at the loss. But Stevie couldn’t find it in him to feel pity for them. They had another year. 

He was done and he could finally walk away without feeling like he had left anything undone after so many years of fighting. He had the Cup and he had Xabi and Nando. It was all complete.

He caught Xabi and Nando’s gazes as they were separated and he could see the same emotions in their eyes. 

He smiled at them before he was pulled away. 

They had time now. They had all the time that they would ever need.

“So after all these seasons, how does it feel to finally win the Stanley Cup?”

Stevie smiled and shook his head, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to articulate all of the emotions going through him.

“Fucking amazing.”

END.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casillas- Some goalies are super vicious when people get in their crease and I can imagine Casillas being like this.   
> Series-It's a best out of seven. So the Birds won this one 4-2.   
> Hits-Stevie gets pulled out as a precaution, but he's not bad enough to get to the hospital. Concussions are a HUGE problem in hockey, so no doubt about it that he'd be pulled out.  
> Fights-Not as many as in the past, but they do happen.   
> Slurs-It is part of the game, and I think they're stopping that now, but they still are something that appears in the game. I do not agree or condone the usage of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Stevie- I was looking at him the other day and he really struck me as the world-weary captain of a team that is struggling to get back up to the top. He's tired, he knows he's close to the end, but is convinced to give it a go. It's a pseudo analogue of Ray Bourque, who waited 20 odd years for a Stanley Cup.  
> Xabi-Supposedly, his exit from Real Madrid was due to rumors of infidelity. It's all conjecture and I'm just using it as a what if scenario to get him back to Liverpool.  
> Nando-Again, his season at Chelsea is sort of fictionalized. He did lose his form, but he's done better in Atletico. Let's just say that he chose to go back to Liverpool instead.  
> Team names-I'm totally just using nicknames, crests, place and nicknames.


End file.
